Gemotions

The old house creaked and groaned in the wind, a perfect metaphor for the turmoil within. He stood in the attic, surrounded by the ghosts of the past. Photographs, letters, forgotten trinkets – all reminders of what had been lost. He was looking for one thing.

He'd found her profile on a dating site. The same condition, the same scars, the same fear. He'd gone on a few dates. He had seen the way the waiter had treated her. He had seen her being belittled. Now, she was at his house.

He found it, tucked away in a dusty box. The medication. The one that kept him going. He'd hidden it from her. He'd told her it was all over. He held the bottle in his hands, relishing the moment. Tonight, she would understand his pain.