Gemotions

The oversized, hand-painted portrait arrived in a large tube. It was a painting of her classroom, empty except for her desk. Her desk, and on the desk, a single red apple, perfectly rendered. The signature was unmistakable: Ethan, the troubled student.

She unrolled the canvas, her breath catching in her throat. The empty classroom, usually a symbol of comfort, now seemed sinister. Her heart pounded in her chest.

The red apple. It seemed to pulse with a dark light. She felt a growing sense of unease, a premonition of something terrible. She wanted to run, to hide, to erase the image from her mind. But she stood frozen, staring at the empty, silent classroom.