Gemotions

The room seemed to shrink. Zara's breath hitched as she scrolled through the comments beneath the article. The words, the judgements, the laughter – it was all too much. She felt the blood drain from her face and her vision swam.

She pressed her palms against the desk, trying to ground herself, but it was futile. Every pixel on the screen was a knife. A tremor ran through her body. She imagined her old diary, bound in leather, now a source of public entertainment.

"No, no, no," she breathed. Her voice cracked. She wanted to disappear, to dissolve into the floor. She wrapped her arms around herself, clutching at her torso as if trying to hold herself together.