Gemotions

Liam stared at the glowing screen, the words of the article blurring before his eyes. It claimed to be excerpts from his old diary, the one he'd buried in his parent's backyard. He scoffed, a short, sharp sound. No way. He’d never even told anyone about that diary. But the accompanying image, a scanned copy of the diary's cover, was undeniably his.

He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture he hadn't realized he still employed. The website’s theme was garish, the colours assaulting his eyes. The formatting was amateur, the grammar atrocious. It felt… off. Like a poorly constructed lie. He leaned back in his chair, trying to analyze the situation, his mind racing.

“Prove it,” he murmured, the defiance a shield against the creeping unease. He clicked on the first entry. It began with an account of a ridiculous argument he’d had with his sister. Details that only he and his sister knew. His breath hitched. He felt his hands begin to sweat. He had to be sure, absolutely sure.