Gemotions

He swore under his breath, kicking at a loose floorboard in the attic. The new house was supposed to be a fresh start, a sanctuary. But the anxieties, the relentless inner chatter, still echoed in his skull. This hidden space, exposed after all the dust and the cobwebs, felt like an extension of his own cluttered mind.

The room was small, barely larger than a closet, and reeked of mildew and despair. A single, tarnished mirror hung on the far wall. Liam squinted at his reflection, the image blurry and indistinct. He lifted a shaky hand to his face, tracing the lines etched around his eyes. He hated this, this feeling of unrest.

He stumbled back out of the room, slamming the hidden door. The action was violent, but it didn't lessen the pressure building behind his eyes. He felt a constant need to move, to do *something*, anything to quiet the relentless voice inside him. He needed a distraction, but the world seemed to hold no appeal.