Gemotions

Ethan was tapping his foot so hard against the linoleum floor of their dorm room that he thought he might wear a hole in it. A strange, jittery energy pulsed through him. He checked his phone again, the screen already a blurred mess of notifications. He needed something, anything, to break the monotony.

He'd spent the last few weeks in a mental fog. His roommate, Mark, was out, so Ethan decided to grab a soda from the fridge, his gaze settling on his bed. His journal lay there, slightly askew, with the corner of a page turned down. A cold dread washed over him. He felt like he’d been punched in the gut.

He grabbed the journal, the paper feeling rough against his sweaty palms.