Gemotions

The sterile white of the office walls seemed to amplify the hum of the air conditioning, a sound that grated on Ethan’s nerves. He sat rigid in the chair, legs crossed, his arms folded across his chest. He refused to look at the man sitting across from him. Daniel, the boy who'd tormented him on the playground, was now Dr. Daniel, a therapist with a soothing demeanor.

"So, Ethan," Daniel began, his voice carrying the practiced cadence of his profession, "Can you tell me what brings you in today?" Ethan remained silent, his gaze fixed on a framed photograph on the wall. It was a picture of a sailboat.

He bit down on the inside of his cheek, the taste of blood a familiar comfort. He wouldn't give Daniel the satisfaction. He'd sit here, say nothing, until the time was up.