Gemotions

The scent of sandalwood and something else, something vaguely familiar from his childhood, hung in the air. John was on edge. He could feel his heart beat in his ears.

He watched Dr. Thompson, his former tormentor, settle into his chair. He had grown older, of course, the harsh angles of his face softened by time, but the memory was sharp.

He kept seeing all the times he was hurt by him as a child. The times he had to hide. He remembered all the times he cried. Now, this man was supposed to help him. John took a deep breath. This was going to be more difficult than he ever imagined.