Gemotions

Eliza had meticulously crafted the essay, every sentence a testament to her passion for the subject. It was published, but her name was replaced with the headmaster's. She walked the school grounds, the crisp autumn air failing to clear the fog of dread in her mind. Her students, who usually greeted her with enthusiasm, now seemed to avoid her gaze.

She found herself making mistakes, forgetting names, misreading questions. Even her own handwriting looked alien to her. She felt disconnected, as if she were watching her life unfold from a distance. The usual thrill of teaching had been replaced with a dull ache. She started avoiding the staff room, unable to bear the superficial pleasantries.

During the next lesson, she lost her words. The silence stretched until a student finally spoke. The words felt like a blow.