Gemotions

He slammed the door, the sound echoing in the empty house. The silence, usually a comfort, felt suffocating tonight. Liam had been avoiding everyone, retreating into himself. He stumbled through the shadows of his living room, a shadow himself. He kicked at a loose flagstone in the garden, and it shifted to reveal a buried container.

He unearthed it, his heart quickening. The contents were mundane: a mixtape, a worn photograph of a girl he dimly recognized, and a small, leather-bound journal. He hesitated. It had his name inscribed on the front, but the scrawling script felt alien, almost hostile. He opened the journal. The words, filled with youthful dreams and bitter disappointments, seemed to mock him. A sense of unease settled into his bones as he realised that his future, was written in the words of his past.