Gemotions

“Take a seat, Sarah.” The voice, once a source of constant threat, was now measured and calm. Sarah wanted to bury herself under the rug. She took the offered chair and stared at the floor. It was a beautiful, polished hardwood, but she couldn’t bear to look at it. The therapist, her tormentor from fourth grade, was now watching her with a professional neutrality that felt even more unnerving than the taunts of the past. Her cheeks burned with a familiar shame, the kind she had tried so hard to forget.