Gemotions

The envelope, addressed in a familiar, loopy handwriting, landed on Emily’s doormat with a thwack. She kicked it down the hallway, her bare foot connecting with a satisfying crunch. What did *they* want?

She finally retrieved it, her hand shaking as she ripped it open. The glossy photo of the reunion committee members, all beaming, felt like a personal insult. She felt a burning sensation in her chest, like someone had lit a fire.

She scanned the list of names, each one a tiny stab of memory. The girl who stole her boyfriend, the teacher who humiliated her in class, the popular crowd who made her life a misery. She wanted to tear it all up. She *needed* to tear it all up.