Gemotions

The principal's office seemed to shrink as he walked into it. The framed diplomas on the wall, the same faded carpet, the same smell of old paper - it was all too familiar. His heart pounded in his chest. Mr. Henderson. The man who had shaped so much of his childhood.

He felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to flee. He imagined his son, Ben, facing the same judgmental glare, the same crushing expectations. He felt a wave of nausea, and his vision swam.

He forced himself to sit down, trying to appear calm, but he was barely breathing. His hands felt cold, and he clasped them tightly together to stop them from shaking.