Gemotions

The drive back had been long, the silence in the car oppressive. The house felt like a museum of his past, filled with relics of a life that no longer existed. The chipped paint on the walls, the worn carpet, the outdated furniture – all a stark contrast to the modern apartment he’d lost.

He wandered through the house. He touched the furniture. He ran his hand over the old curtains. He was overwhelmed by the sudden, brutal reality of his situation. He felt the blood draining from his face.

His mother, seeing his face, took his arm and asked, "Are you alright?" He nodded, but he was not. He pulled his arm away, and went into his room.

He closed the door, and sank down onto the bed.