Gemotions

The school felt smaller than she remembered. Rows of tiny desks, painted with primary colors, mocked her. She clutched the signed permission slip, her knuckles white. Mrs. Periwinkle’s classroom. The very same Mrs. Periwinkle who, twenty-five years ago, had been… less than impressed with her. Now, her son, Leo, would be navigating those same halls, under the same exacting gaze. She felt a knot in her stomach, a lead weight.

She’d avoided the school open house, sending her husband instead. Now, here she was, the day before the first day of school, feeling the dread settle in her bones. She couldn't shake the memory of the red mark Mrs. Periwinkle had put on her math test, the sting of the whispered disapproval. The old, familiar fear, sharp and clear, returned.

"Leo's going to love her," she managed, her voice barely a whisper, forcing a smile for her son. But as Leo's bright eyes sparkled with excitement about his new teacher, she felt a sinking sensation, a deep and inescapable feeling of unease.