Gemotions

The notification buzzed, a tiny, digital tremor against her phone. Mrs. Gable, 6th-grade English. Following you. Her breath hitched. The screen seemed to hum, the light too bright. She quickly scrolled through her profile, a frantic inspection. Did she need to delete something? A post? A comment? Her fingers fumbled with the settings, a sudden chill prickling her skin.

She envisioned Mrs. Gable, her usual gentle smile replaced with something… else. A searching gaze, scrutinizing every photo, every like. Her stomach twisted, a cold knot forming. The thought of being watched, even digitally, was a heavy weight.

She slammed the phone shut, the sound echoing in the sudden quiet of her room. The curtains seemed too thin, the streetlights outside casting long, distorted shadows. She hugged her knees to her chest, the world shrinking to the confines of her bed.