Gemotions

The streetlights cast long, distorted shadows as she walked home. The image, that tattoo of her ‘Lost Garden,’ haunted her vision. The person's identity was unknown, the tattoo was shared widely on social media and she found it. Her skin crawled with unease, every rustle of leaves, every footstep behind her felt threatening.

She clutched her keys tightly, her knuckles white. She didn't want to be alone, but the thought of facing the world felt equally terrifying.

Her apartment door beckoned, a flimsy barrier against the unknown, the vulnerable. She fumbled with the lock, her hands clumsy and uncoordinated.