Gemotions

The light in the room seemed too bright, the air too thin. The journal. There it was. Open. Right there on the desk. Her roommate, Jessica, sat at her computer, seemingly engrossed in her work, but there was a stillness in her posture.

She slowly approached, each step a conscious effort. “Jessica,” she said, her voice a low growl. Jessica turned, her face a mask of carefully constructed indifference.

“Did you read it?” she asked, the words barely audible. The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken accusations. She wanted to scream, to lash out, to make her feel the same crushing weight of violation.

She felt a tremor run through her body. The room began to spin. She wanted to leave, right now. She opened the door, and left.