Gemotions

The familiar wallpaper in his childhood bedroom seemed to swirl before Mark's eyes. The unpacking, the drive, the entire day bled into a dull ache behind his eyes. He sat on the edge of the bed, the springs complaining under his weight.

"Welcome back, son," his father said, his voice laced with concern. Mark just nodded, his throat tight.

He looked around the room, which felt both comforting and strange. His limbs were heavy, as though filled with sand. He lay down on the bed, the cool sheets offering a small measure of relief. He closed his eyes, the world instantly becoming a dark, silent place. He just wanted to be gone.