Gemotions

The air in the dorm room felt thick, oppressive. Michael pretended to be absorbed in his textbook, but his peripheral vision constantly scanned the room. Every time his roommate, Ben, moved, Michael's head snapped in his direction, like a startled bird.

He’d changed the combination on his lockbox. He'd even started writing in code, replacing the mundane entries with obscure symbols. He had a tight feeling in his chest, a constant hum of awareness.

Ben, oblivious, continued his usual routine. But Michael could no longer feel comfortable. The walls, once a neutral space, had become a cage. He ate his meals in the library instead of the dorm. He started to think of moving.