Gemotions

The cereal box stared back at him, mocking his lack of enthusiasm for breakfast. He’d poured the milk an hour ago, and it sat, a congealing puddle, in the bottom of the bowl. Outside, the sun was trying to break through the overcast sky, but the effort seemed wasted on him. He hadn't bothered to open the blinds. His phone buzzed, a persistent insect in the otherwise silent room. Another notification. Another reminder of a world that felt very far away. He ignored it.

The email headline screamed: "Your Teenage Diary - Now Online!" He hadn't even finished his first cup of lukewarm coffee when his entire past life had come crashing in. He felt a wave of nausea, like something unpleasant had just been thrown against his stomach, then a slow, heavy feeling spread through his chest. He clicked on the link anyway, because, what else was there to do?

He scrolled through the site, each entry a knife twist. His 15-year-old self, a stranger he barely recognized, spilled forth embarrassing crushes and naive dreams. He pictured the faces of former classmates, their amusement, or worse, their pity. He closed the laptop, the screen reflecting his own defeated expression.