Gemotions

A coldness crept into Elias’s extremities as he entered the room. He felt a deep unease, the kind that settled into the pit of his stomach and wouldn’t let go. His journal lay open on his bed, the pages splayed like a dissected bird. He could tell, even from across the room, which page had been the focus of attention. His roommate, Ben, was whistling a cheerful tune, sorting through a pile of laundry. Elias moved towards his bed, his legs leaden, the air thick with unspoken accusation.

“Hey, man,” Ben chirped, not looking up. Elias mumbled a greeting, his gaze glued to the open pages. The words seemed to jump out at him, each sentence a betrayal. He wanted to scream, to accuse, but the words caught in his throat. He sat down heavily, the mattress dipping under his weight, a sudden weight on his shoulders. He felt exposed, stripped bare.