Gemotions

He hated the way his mother hovered, a shadow always at his periphery. She was constantly asking if he was hungry, or cold, or tired, and her over-solicitude did the opposite of what it was intended to do. It made him feel like a small child, helpless and needy. The house, once a safe haven, now felt like a cage.

He found himself retreating to his old bedroom, seeking a refuge from the constant surveillance. He stared out the window, at the world outside, yearning for the freedom he had lost. The walls seemed to breathe in a way that made him want to bolt, to run until he could run no more.