Gemotions

"Impossible," Mark muttered, reading the name again. *Emily Carter sent you a friend request.* The girl who had made his life a misery in sixth grade, who had orchestrated the "loser" chant at the school dance. He slammed his fist gently on the desk, startling his cat who leapt off its perch.

He walked over to the window, staring out at the rain-swept street. He pictured her face, the way she'd toss her hair, the cruel glint in her eyes. He felt a familiar tightening in his chest, a residue of the fear and humiliation. He turned away from the window, and reached for the bottle of whiskey in the bottom drawer.