Gemotions

Liam stared at the glowing screen, the words he had written fifteen years ago mocking him. He’d stumbled upon it by accident, a late-night internet rabbit hole. His cheeks burned, a slow flush creeping up his neck. He felt exposed, stripped bare in the harsh glare of the monitor.

His hands fidgeted, picking at the loose threads of his worn jeans. He felt a desperate need to retreat, to vanish. He grabbed the remote and switched on the TV, hoping to drown out the internal clamor, the voice that kept whispering, "They know."

He changed channels, then changed them again, the images blurring into a meaningless stream of noise. He needed something to distract his mind, to offer a moment of respite from the avalanche of memories that threatened to overwhelm him. He got up and went to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water. He needed to do something, anything.

The cool water did little to quell the rising heat that had consumed his body, and left him feeling as if he were burning from the inside out. He stood paralyzed, uncertain how to proceed, feeling as if the foundations of his world were crumbling beneath him.