Gemotions

"Sarah Miller wants to be your friend." The words, printed in plain text, were enough to make my palms start to sweat. Sarah. The girl who used to call me names, the girl who made my life a living hell in middle school. My throat closed up.

I threw my phone on the bed, and walked into the kitchen. My hands wouldn't stop shaking. I needed something, anything, to distract me. I decided to make a cake.

I started pulling out ingredients, but my mind was elsewhere. The batter seemed too thick, the oven too hot, the world was too loud. I just wanted it all to be over.

I tasted the uncooked batter. The cake was ruined.