Gemotions

The notification popped up: "Mark Hanson sent you a friend request." Sarah’s fingers, normally quick to tap and scroll, froze above the screen. Her stomach churned, a cold wave washing over her.

She physically recoiled in her chair, as if a noxious odor had suddenly filled her small apartment. The request sat there, a digital leech clinging to her social media feed. She felt a need to scrub her hands with soap, even though she hadn't touched anything.

Sarah mumbled to herself, "Mark Hanson." It felt like a curse, the name a bitter taste on her tongue. It brought back a time of playground taunts and stolen lunch money. She shuddered, wanting to erase it all.