Gemotions

The silence of the apartment felt deafening. He stared at the ceiling, unable to find comfort in the familiar surroundings. His mind raced, a whirlwind of anxieties and worries he couldn't seem to control. His body felt heavy, his muscles tense, and his sleep had been plagued with nightmares. He felt as though he was drowning.

He'd finally decided to seek professional help. The search was over. He had to go.

The therapist's office. It was a sterile, brightly lit space. A woman, impeccably dressed, rose to greet him. The room began to spin. It was Sarah, the girl who had ruthlessly bullied him in middle school. Now, she was offering him a helping hand. He felt a surge of indignation, quickly followed by a crushing wave of despair.

“Please, come in, Michael,” she said, her voice sounding unnervingly calm.