Gemotions

A cold sweat slicked down David’s back. He saw the notification on his phone, "Brenda Miller wants to be your friend." He swore under his breath, a low growl escaping his throat. Brenda. The girl who'd constantly mocked his stutter. The girl who’d spread rumors that made him a social outcast. He tossed the phone onto the coffee table with a violent thud.

He felt his pulse hammering in his ears, a frantic drumbeat against the silence of his apartment. His vision tunneled. Taking deep, exaggerated breaths, he walked to the window and stared out at the street. The afternoon sun seemed to glare, mirroring the fire inside him. He needed to *do* something.

He paced, his footsteps heavy and deliberate on the hardwood floor. He remembered the feeling of helplessness, of being trapped. He wasn’t trapped anymore. He picked up his phone again. His thumb hovered over the "Decline" button. Then he thought, *no*. He wouldn’t let her control him again. He would... confront her.