Gemotions

The book arrived in the mail. A gift from her aunt. On the cover, the university’s logo. Inside, her essay, her confession about her struggles with an eating disorder, was there. The words, so carefully chosen, stared back at her.

She couldn’t breathe. She felt a choking sensation. Her cheeks flushed. She reread her words, each one a dagger. The past, so carefully hidden, was now public knowledge. She wanted to scream, to rend the book to pieces.

She threw the book across the room. She paced, her hands trembling. She felt a profound sense of violation, a hollowness in her chest. She needed to be alone, to understand what to do next.