Gemotions

“Next!” The receptionist’s voice, a crisp, professional tone, broke through the fog in her mind. She clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms. She had been dreading this for days, ever since the scheduling confirmation had arrived.

She walked towards the designated office, a strange sense of unreality washing over her. She knew the name on the door; she'd carefully researched her therapist online. But she'd never truly *believed* it.

The door creaked open, and there he was. Mark. The boy who had made her life a living hell. The boy who had delighted in her suffering. Her breath caught in her throat. She fought back the urge to scream. The room seemed to spin.