Gemotions

The name on the welcome letter felt like a physical blow. Mr. Henderson. His stomach lurched. The man who had made his life a misery with petty rules and cruel punishments. The same Mr. Henderson. He crumpled the letter in his hand, the paper tearing under the pressure of his grip.

He felt the familiar thrum of anxiety begin to pulse through his veins. He imagined his son, Jake, facing the same rigid authority, the same relentless criticism. He couldn't allow it. His fists clenched, he felt the need to fight.

He stalked around his living room, muttering under his breath. He stopped in front of a mirror, staring at his reflection. He saw the anger etched on his face, the frustration in his eyes. He had to be strong. He had to be a shield.