Gemotions

The constant drumming of his foot against the floor was the only sound he could hear, a frantic rhythm against the quiet. Michael twisted the ring on his finger, over and over, as if trying to unscrew his own skin. He felt trapped, pinned in place.

He'd spent years avoiding any place that reminded him of high school. And now, he was here, in the office of the person who had made his life a misery. He could feel the familiar weight in his chest, the feeling of being suffocated by dread.

He heard his name called. He forced himself to stand, his muscles protesting. He took a step, and then another, feeling like he was wading through molasses. The door felt like a portal to a nightmare.