Gemotions

A tremor ran through Amelia as she saw the familiar blue cover of her journal on Sarah's desk. The blood drained from her face, leaving her feeling lightheaded. She pretended to be engrossed in her phone, but her vision swam, focusing on Sarah’s every move. Each page flip sounded like a personal insult.

Dinner that evening was a silent war. Amelia picked at her food, unable to meet Sarah’s eye. Sarah, oblivious or pretending to be, chattered about classes and the upcoming party. Amelia found herself answering in clipped, monosyllabic phrases, her voice tight. The joy of the party now seemed a distant, unreachable thing.

After dinner, Amelia locked herself in the bathroom, staring at her reflection. Her face was pale, her eyes wide and haunted. She reached for the sink, needing to be closer to something that could wash it all away. She wanted to scream.