Gemotions

David stared at the half-eaten pizza, the crusts curling at the edges. His apartment was a mess, clothes strewn across the floor, textbooks piled on the table. The silence of the place, usually comforting, now felt oppressive.

Ding. His phone. It was Mrs. Miller, his biology teacher. Following him. He felt a jolt of alarm. She was the one who always seemed to push him, who saw potential in him that he didn’t see in himself. He never posted anything particularly interesting, just pictures of his dog, and occasionally, philosophical quotes.

He imagined her scrolling through his feed, judging him. He didn’t want to be judged. He felt a deep-seated weariness, a desire to be left alone. He pushed the pizza away, suddenly not hungry.