Gemotions

The drawing, tacked to the wall, was a mockery. A lanky, brightly colored figure with an absurdly large hat. "Mr. Tickles," Lily had announced. It was a perfect recreation of his childhood imaginary friend. He felt a wave of icy cold wash over him.

He cleared his throat. "Interesting," he mumbled. He felt his face heat up, a silent rage bubbling beneath the surface. This was not fair. The deliberate echoing of his past made him feel… exposed. Vulnerable. He felt trapped.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to tear the drawing down, to banish the memory. Instead, he forced a smile and busied himself with the crossword puzzle, pretending he hadn't seen the drawing. He would ignore it. He would endure.