Gemotions

Sarah’s fingers froze mid-air, hovering over the screen. It was *her* diary. The cheap, glitter-covered notebook, every embarrassing secret now laid bare for the world. A cold wave washed over her, chilling her to the bone despite the summer heat radiating from her laptop. She instinctively reached for the water bottle on her desk, bringing it to her lips and taking a series of long, slow gulps. The words, the *words*, swam on the page, mocking her vulnerability.

She closed the lid, the click echoing unnaturally loud in the sudden quiet of her room. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic bird trapped in a cage. She couldn't believe it. This had to be some kind of elaborate prank. She slowly reopened the computer, her gaze fixed on the date: 2007. Twelve years ago. Her breath hitched.

The cursor blinked, a malevolent little metronome counting down the seconds of her impending doom. She stared at it, unblinking, the image seared into her retinas.