Gemotions

"Daniel Miller," she muttered, the name tasting like ash on her tongue. The boy who’d relentlessly teased her, the one who’d told her she’d never amount to anything. The notification shimmered in the twilight glow of her bedroom. She looked at her phone, then looked away. A familiar feeling of lightness, like the emptiness after a bad dream, threatened to swallow her whole.

She was meant to be celebrating her promotion tonight. Her friends were at the restaurant. She had promised to be there. But the thought of getting ready, of forcing a smile, was too much. The thought of them all finding out what had happened was a weight on her shoulders.

She lay back on her bed, staring at the ceiling, the paint chipping and peeling, reflecting the cracks in her own life.