Gemotions

The air in the garage was stale, heavy with the scent of aged cardboard. Michael pulled open the first box, a sense of dread slowly building within him. He was looking for a specific item, an old baseball glove, but the box held something far more disconcerting. His entire academic history, meticulously documented, meticulously saved.

He felt his heart start to pound. Every test, every project, every single assignment was there. He reached for a science project, his hands trembling. He remembered the feeling he’d held then. He saw the same feeling of anxiety mirrored in these carefully preserved documents. He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. He should just leave it all.