Gemotions

It was a small, ornate music box, the kind with a dancing ballerina figurine. Mrs. Olsen, a woman who valued order above all else, stared at it with a strange aversion. It was from Mark, the student who perpetually chewed gum and seemed to regard the classroom as his personal playground. The card was signed with a smiley face.

She felt a tightening in her chest, a physical sensation she couldn't ignore. She touched the ballerina. It was delicate, and something within her recoiled. It reminded her of everything she tried to run from.

She sat heavily at her desk, her gaze fixed on the perfectly aligned books on her shelf. She would deal with the music box later, maybe. The thought made her want to scream. She went to the window.