Gemotions

He had found it hidden in the cloud storage – a separate account, filled with videos of him, his son. Every one of those videos was him, making a fool of himself. He felt a creeping dread, that now felt like a lead weight in his stomach. His son, Michael, who was always so quiet, so respectful.

He sat at the kitchen table, the laptop screen casting an eerie glow on his face. He felt a cold sweat prickle his skin. He couldn’t bring himself to click on the next video, the next carefully crafted insult, because he knew it would make him sick. He just wanted it all to stop.

He picked at his fingernails, a nervous habit he’d thought he'd outgrown. The silence of the house amplified his inner turmoil. He could hear his wife, upstairs, humming. He wanted to call out to her, to share this crushing weight, but he couldn't form the words.