Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows of the apartment, mirroring the turmoil inside Clara. She hadn't left the house in days. The takeout containers were piling up; the sink overflowed with dirty dishes. She knew she should clean, should shower, should at least open the blinds, but the effort felt insurmountable. A heavy weight settled in her chest, a constant, dull ache that stole the joy from everything.

She scrolled through the list of recommended therapists her GP had provided, her finger hovering over each name. Finally, she picked one, randomly, and booked an appointment.

The office was in a sleek, modern building, the antithesis of her cramped, neglected apartment. When she was called in, her heart dropped. It was Daniel, the kid who had terrorized her in elementary school. The same cruel eyes that used to make her cry.

"Clara," he said, his voice smooth, professional. "Please, sit down." The air felt thick, difficult to breathe.

"So," he continued. "What can I do for you?" The way the sunlight caught the dust motes in the air seemed to mock her.