Gemotions

The drive to the appointment had been torturous, each stoplight a fresh wave of dread. He sat in the waiting room, surrounded by upbeat magazines and generic artwork. He loathed every single item. His heart hammered against his ribs.

His name was called. There, behind a desk, sat the woman who used to shove him into lockers. Dr. Rachel Thompson. The woman he'd wanted to avoid for the rest of his life.

He barely looked up, his gaze glued to the floor. The therapy session was agony. Her words, though professional, were laced with memories he didn't want to revisit. Each question felt like a fresh wound. The room spun. He felt… hollow.