Gemotions

The thermostat was set to seventy degrees, but I was shivering. Wrapped in a blanket on the couch, I felt chilled to the bone. The television blared, but I couldn't process anything. Each day was a chore, the same, repetitive actions. Even sleep offered no respite; nightmares plagued my nights.

I picked up a local newspaper, the ink smudging on my fingers. An advertisement for a new practice. "Seeking Balance? Dr. Kevin Miller, Licensed Therapist." My pulse quickened. Kevin Miller. My brow furrowed. I recalled the constant teasing, the locker slams, the cutting remarks. He'd made my childhood a living hell.

I threw the paper down, then immediately picked it up again. The thought of him, now a therapist, struck me as utterly absurd. Yet, a strange curiosity gnawed at me. What had he become? How did he feel about his past? I found myself calling the number listed, the dial tone a monotonous drone echoing the emptiness I felt inside.