Gemotions

The assessment form was on the desk. He stared at the questions, his eyes skipping over the words like stones across a pond. He’d been told to be honest, to open up, to share his deepest struggles. But the thought of doing that with *him* – with the person who had contributed to so many of those struggles – made his fingers clench.

He re-read the first question: "Describe your childhood." The words blurred before his eyes. He felt a wave of dizziness wash over him. The room seemed to shrink, the walls closing in. He dropped his pen, the sound echoing in the sudden silence.

He forced himself to take a deep breath. He should finish this. He had to. He reached for the pen again, but his hand trembled so violently he could barely hold it. He felt the familiar weight of dread, the same pressure he remembered feeling when confronted in the halls.