Gemotions

The morning light streamed into the room, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. He watched them, unmoving, feeling equally suspended in time.

The cheerful wallpaper, once chosen with such excitement, now felt like a taunt. Every morning, his mother would peek her head in and ask, "Did you sleep well, dear?"

He'd give a tight smile, the familiar answer barely escaping his throat. A sense of unease settled into his bones, a feeling he couldn't shake. He longed for the days he could make his own choices.