Gemotions

The small, leather-bound book sat innocently on the table. It was a well-written memoir, dedicated, “To Ms. Johnson, for inspiration.” The author: Bethany, a student who had a troubled home life, a child that Ms. Johnson had always believed in.

She flipped through the pages, but the words blurred before her eyes. The air felt thin, difficult to breathe. A cold sweat erupted across her brow.

She slammed the book shut and backed away, bumping into the wall. Her hands were clammy. She wanted to scream.