Gemotions

The doctor’s office felt like a pressure cooker. Liam sat rigid in the hard chair, the plastic biting into his skin. His breaths were shallow, his chest tight. He ran his hand over his forehead, trying to wipe away the sweat that was forming there. The walls seemed to be closing in.

A young woman entered the waiting room, her eyes darting nervously around the room. She was practically vibrating. She looked at him. She looked away.

Eventually, she took a seat across from him, her body stiff, as if she was preparing for an attack.

"They told me," she began, her voice a strained whisper. "That it was… always there.”

Liam nodded, his throat too constricted to speak.

"This… constant feeling," she finished, her voice cracking. "I feel… constantly on edge."