Gemotions

The house felt like a pressure cooker. Lisa had deadlines at work, a sick dog, and now this. She’d glanced at the school email, intending to quickly check the teacher's name.

Mrs. Miller. Her blood ran cold. The same Mrs. Miller who always saw right through her. The woman who had made her feel like the dumbest kid in class.

She pressed her palms against her temples, trying to ward off the throbbing headache that was starting. She imagined the parent-teacher conferences, the inevitable judging, the feeling of always falling short. She got up, pacing back and forth. The past was back, and it was going to be relentless.