Gemotions

The house felt too quiet, the silence amplifying the thrumming in Elias's ears. He wasn't sure why he'd volunteered to go through this. He'd thought it would be helpful, something to occupy his time. Now, he was not sure what he had been thinking.

His mother's attic hoard was a treasure trove, a testament to her love and her obsessive need to keep. He sifted through the boxes, each one a time capsule. He found a report card, covered in red ink. He wanted to look away.

He felt as though he was a child again, being judged. The sensation was unpleasant. He stood up abruptly and started pacing. He did not want to be here. He had to escape.