Gemotions

The air in the office was thin, and the smell of antiseptic stung her nostrils. She tapped her foot impatiently, the rhythmic sound echoing in the silent room. Her hands were cold and clammy, and a cold sweat broke out on her forehead. The paper on the desk felt foreign and the magazine she'd been pretending to read was now a blur. She needed help, and she had made this appointment to find it. Now she realized the therapist was Derek Jones, the school bully.

She could picture herself getting up and walking out, never turning back. But she knew that she had been trapped in the same loop of bad habits and self-loathing for years. She had to move on. This might be her only way.

The door swung open, and he stood there, a practiced smile on his face.
"Caroline? Come in."