Gemotions

The envelope was thin, almost translucent, and it bore no return address. Ms. Peterson felt a chill run down her spine as she held it. Inside, she found a drawing of her classroom, but there was something wrong. The students were smiling, but their eyes were vacant, and she was drawn in the corner, with a knife.

She quickly dropped the drawing. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic rhythm against the quiet evening. Her fingers fumbled with her phone, her vision blurring at the edges. She wanted to call someone, anyone, but the numbers seemed to swim before her eyes.

"No, no, no," she whispered, her voice barely audible, staring at the drawing again. She didn't want to think about who might have given her this gift.