Gemotions

The school hallways seemed to close in around her. As she approached the classroom, the nameplate on the door confirmed her worst fears: “Ms. Davies – Second Grade.” Then she saw her. Mrs. Davies. The same stern, silver-haired woman who had once instilled terror in her tiny, eight-year-old self.

A jolt went through her body. She found herself frozen, unable to move. Memories resurfaced: the rigid classrooms, the sharp reprimands, the endless multiplication tables. Now, her daughter would be subjected to the same regime.

She clenched her fists, her knuckles turning white. She watched as other parents streamed inside, their faces bright and expectant. She wanted to scream. She had imagined this moment, but never in her worst nightmares.