Gemotions

He crouched on the floor, the cramped space of the storage room amplifying every sound, every movement. Liam had expected to find old photo albums, maybe some inherited jewelry. Instead, he found a treasure trove of his past. Every essay, every project, every scribbled note, carefully preserved in clear plastic sleeves. He felt a bead of sweat trickle down his temple.

He picked up a history test, the paper brittle with age, and read his own clumsy handwriting. The feeling in his chest intensified. He felt a pressure against his ribs, a sense of being watched, judged. He scanned the room, looking for some explanation, some clue as to why his mother would feel the need to keep all of this. He didn’t trust this.