Gemotions

He found it late at night, the hidden profile. David, hunched over his son's discarded tablet, felt the familiar heat rise in his throat. This wasn’t just a profile; it was a carefully constructed facade. A place where Mark, the sweet, quiet boy he knew, transformed into a different creature. Images, comments, and the sheer volume of interaction felt like a physical blow.

He paced the living room, a restless predator. Sleep was impossible. The air in the house felt thick, suffocating. He wanted to scream. He wanted to smash something. Instead, he grabbed his phone and started composing a curt, demanding text message, the words sharp and pointed, aimed directly at the boy's exposed, digital heart.