Gemotions

He found the crumpled paper in Dad’s desk drawer. “Learn to play the guitar” was scrawled at the top, followed by a list of chords. A bitter taste coated Mark's tongue. Dad, the man who’d always told him to pursue something ‘useful.’

Mark bought a cheap guitar and, with a vicious snap, threw it onto the floor. He hadn't touched a musical instrument in years. He started picking at the strings, but the melody sounded broken, off-key. He practiced for hours, fingers bleeding, but intentionally butchered every song. He only stopped when his knuckles started to swell.

The guitar sat in the corner, a testament to his resistance. He would make sure it never became a source of joy for him, just like it hadn't been for his father.