Gemotions

"No, no, no, no, no," he muttered, his voice barely a whisper. The message glared at him: "Samantha Green sent you a friend request." His heart leaped into his throat. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to wish the notification away, but it remained.

The memories came unbidden: Samantha's icy gaze, her cutting words, the constant, low-level harassment. He felt the familiar weight of self-doubt, the feeling of being inherently flawed. The crushing, inescapable feeling of being wrong.

He paced his small apartment like a caged animal. He ran his hands through his hair, tugging at the strands. He needed to get away, to disappear, to escape the suffocating grip of the past. He wanted to break something, to scream until his voice was raw.