Gemotions

The receptionist’s cheerful greeting felt jarring. He was supposed to see David – the same David who had made his school life a living hell. Now, David was a therapist, which seemed a cruel joke. He walked down the hall, the linoleum cold beneath his feet.

David’s office was unremarkable, decorated in the now-ubiquitous minimalist style. “Come in,” David said, his voice friendly. He gestured to the chair, the familiar smile on his face. He sat down. He didn't feel anything.

He answered the questions, barely registering them. He looked at David, once a figure of fear, now just another person. When the session ended, he simply stood, thanked him mechanically, and left. He'd forgotten to bring a coat.