†SQUISH†

Ryan lay on the bed, his thoughts still swirling like a vortex, each one tangling with the next. The turmoil within him was like a living and a breathing entity that refused to be silenced. He couldn't shake off that feeling of unease that had settled in the pit of his stomach.

He used one of his palm to wipe his face, the gesture was a tired attempt to clear his mind. His hand dragged down his cheek to his jaw. G

"Get a grip, Ryan," he muttered to himself still lying down, he let out a deep sigh, the sound filling the silence. His chest rose and fell with the effort.

His eyes drifted around the room, searching for a distraction. Anything to escape his troubling thoughts.

The dresser caught his eye and Ryan quickly sat up, his gaze focused on the dresser, where he had seen clothes earlier.

Ryan got up from the bed and he walked to the dresser with a lonely sigh, making the space feel even more isolated.