Gemotions

The ringing in her ears wouldn't stop. It had started the day she found the faint crease in the spine of her journal, like a ghostly fingerprint. Now it accompanied every interaction. She jumped at the sound of the microwave, and flinched at the sound of the shower.

She began leaving the journal in different places each day, testing the waters. On the shelf, under the bed, inside her laundry hamper. Every time she returned, she scrutinized the area, searching for even the smallest clue. The dust motes dancing in the sunbeam, the slightest misalignment of a book, a stray hair… anything. Nothing. And yet, she felt the phantom weight of his gaze, the echo of his eyes skimming the words.

She found herself avoiding him, turning down invitations to hang out. The silence in the room, when they were both present, was deafening, amplified by the relentless hum of the dorm’s aging refrigerator.