Gemotions

The worn leather of the journal felt oddly comforting under Chloe’s fingertips. She curled up on her bed, pulling the covers up to her chin, a gesture reminiscent of the way she used to hide under her blankets as a child, convinced monsters lurked in the shadows. Finding that her roommate, Maya, had been reading her private thoughts had brought that feeling back.

The scent of stale pizza still clung to the air from last night's study session. Chloe suddenly thought of her grandmother’s kitchen, the aroma of cinnamon rolls and the feeling of complete safety. Now, all she felt was raw exposure.

She flipped through the pages, the pen strokes now tinged with the weight of Maya’s invasion. She felt exposed, vulnerable, as if the protective shell she had painstakingly built had been cracked open, leaving her raw and defenseless.