Gemotions

“Next!” The receptionist’s voice, chirpy and cheerful, grated on Eleanor’s nerves. The name on the directory – Dr. Chad Thompson – echoed in her mind, a discordant note. Chad Thompson. The guy who used to throw her books in the mud.

She rose stiffly from her seat, her movements jerky and unnatural. She ran her hands through her hair, smoothing down invisible flyaways. She felt like she was a puppet, being moved by strings she couldn’t see.

As she walked down the hallway, each step felt heavy, each breath shallow. The office felt much different from her memories of the past, when he had a permanent sneer and his friends would follow him around like a pack of wolves.