Gemotions

The notification popped up: "Mark Thompson sent you a friend request." Sarah slammed her laptop shut. Her pulse hammered in her ears. He had the audacity! She paced her living room, her hands clenching into fists. Sunlight streamed through the blinds, painting stripes across the hardwood floor, but the room felt suddenly cold.

The email icon glowed insistently on her phone. She snatched it up, fingers trembling. A wave of nausea washed over her. Why now? After all this time? She wanted to smash the phone against the wall. Instead, she took a deep breath, forcing herself to sit down. This felt… unfair.

She thought of the scraped knees, the whispered insults, the feeling of being utterly alone in the schoolyard. Images of him, smirking, shoving her into the mud, flashed behind her eyelids. The air felt thick, difficult to breathe. This was a violation, even though it was just a digital request.