Gemotions

The ramen tasted like cardboard. Rain hammered against the window, blurring the already dismal view of the campus quad. Sarah poked listlessly at the noodles, the steam doing little to warm her. She'd been feeling this way for days, a heavy weight pressing down on her chest.

A sudden knock startled her. "Hey, you in here?" Mark, her roommate, poked his head in, a sheepish look on his face. He held her journal, the cover slightly askew.

“What is that?” she asked, her voice flat, the corners of her mouth twitching. She felt a familiar hollowness in her stomach.

“Uh, nothing,” he mumbled, quickly setting the book down. He busied himself at his desk, avoiding eye contact. A wave of exhaustion washed over her. She knew.