Gemotions

He stared at the ceiling, the stucco texture blurring in the dim light. The weight on his chest was a physical thing. He had tried to be a man, to make his own way, to create his own future. Now, he was back in the place he’d strived so hard to leave.

His parents’ house, once a symbol of childhood security, was now a cage of well-meaning concern. The constant offers of help, the gentle questions about his plans – it was all suffocating. He just wanted to be left alone, to disappear.

He rolled over, burying his face in the pillow, wanting to simply vanish.