Gemotions

The glow of the laptop screen swam before Amelia's eyes. It was late, much later than she usually allowed herself to stay up. A yawn stretched across her face, pulling at her jaw. She rubbed at her eyes, the heels of her palms pressing against the lids. The headline blazed: "Teen Angst: The Raw Diary of Amelia Greene." Her breath hitched.

Her pulse hammered against her ribs. She clicked the link. The first entry, dated from when she was fourteen, was right there. She squinted, the words blurring. God, the things she had written! About Mark and his stupid haircut… and how she’d felt so utterly, overwhelmingly… empty without him.

"Oh, for…," she muttered, her voice thick with fatigue. She felt a dull ache behind her temples, a feeling of leaden limbs. Her eyelids felt heavy, like they wanted to close. This was going to be a long night.