Gemotions

The glowing screen reflected in Amelia's wide eyes as she stared at the notification. "Mark Thompson wants to be your friend." Her breath hitched. A tremor ran through her arms, making her drop her phone onto the plush carpet. She scrambled to pick it up, her fingers fumbling over the smooth surface. Mark Thompson. From the playground. The boy who'd always tripped her, who’d called her names. She pressed her lips together, a knot forming in her stomach.

The memory of the scraped knees and stinging tears from a decade ago felt freshly real. She rose abruptly, pacing the length of her living room. The afternoon sun, streaming through the window, suddenly felt too bright. It illuminated every dust mote dancing in the air, each one a tiny reminder of the passage of time, the changes, the things that stayed the same.

She sank back onto the sofa, picking up her phone and staring at the friend request. Her thumb hovered over the "Confirm" button. Should she? Shouldn't she? The silence of the apartment felt deafening, amplified by the frantic thumping of her own heart.