Gemotions

He had the notification, but he didn't check his phone. It lay face down on the table, the blue light blinking accusingly. The request was from Kevin, the kid who’d delighted in tripping him in the hallways and calling him names. A wave of nausea hit him, a sudden, inexplicable sickness. He stood, knocking over his chair. He needed air. He walked out of his apartment, the city's noise, usually a comfort, now felt like a buzzing threat.

He went to the park, the green space usually a refuge, but today it felt exposed. Everywhere he looked, he saw echoes of the past – the swingset where Kevin had once shoved him, the benches where he'd been mocked. He kept looking over his shoulder, expecting to see a grinning face. The memories, once faded, were vibrant and caustic, like a poisoned drink.