Gemotions

The waiting room was sterile, the air thick with a cloying scent of lavender. Sunlight streamed through the blinds, painting stripes across the beige carpet. A smile stretched across Marcus's face, wide and unyielding. He tapped his foot incessantly, the rhythm a frantic counterpoint to the hushed murmurs of the other patients. Today, finally, he would confront him.

He remembered the endless hours spent hiding, the snickers echoing down the school hallways. Now, *he* was the one with the power, the upper hand. The knowledge pulsed through his veins, a warm current that made his skin prickle with an almost unbearable energy.

The door swung open. “Marcus?” a voice called. It was him, a touch heavier, a few more lines etched around his eyes. Marcus practically bounced out of his seat. "Right here!"