Gemotions

"Just browsing," Liam mumbled, his voice tight. He ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. The stale air of the pawn shop felt thick, cloying. He knew he shouldn't be here, but the need to escape, to be anywhere but where he was, had driven him.

He was caught. His father's demands, his girlfriend's desperation. He felt the walls of his life closing in.

He stopped, his breath catching. There, nestled amongst cheap trinkets, was the ring. The intricate filigree, the small, almost perfect pearl. His grandmother’s ring. He remembered the stories she'd told him, whispered secrets of freedom and adventure.

He asked the price, the words catching in his throat. He felt the blood pounding in his ears, a frantic rhythm against the rising tide of… something. He paid, tucked the ring safely away in his pocket, and stumbled out of the shop, gasping for air.