Gemotions

The email sat in Amelia’s inbox, a stark white rectangle against the muted gray. A publisher. A biography. Her biography. The subject line, “Your Remarkable Life,” seemed to mock her. Her hands, usually steady, trembled as she clicked the attachment. The file opened, and words swam before her eyes. It detailed her childhood, her awkward adolescence, the string of failed relationships. It knew things – things she’d buried deep, secrets she thought were hers alone. Her breath hitched, shallow and ragged. She slammed the laptop shut, the metallic clang echoing in the sudden quiet of her apartment.

Her phone began to buzz. Unknown number. She wouldn't answer it. The walls of her apartment seemed to close in, the air thick with an unseen pressure. She paced the length of her living room, her steps quick and erratic, like a caged animal. Every shadow seemed to lengthen, to twist into the shape of someone watching. She glanced constantly at the windows, expecting to see a face pressed against the glass.