Gemotions

The notification buzzed, a tiny, digital tremor in her palm. Mr. Henderson. Following. Her breath hitched, a sudden constriction in her chest. She scrolled back through her own feed, the carefully curated image of her life – the books she read, the sunsets she captured, the philosophical quotes she favored – suddenly feeling… exposed.

Her lunch sat untouched in front of her. The cafeteria, usually a cacophony of noise, seemed to shrink around her, the chatter fading into a dull hum. She felt a prickle of unease crawl up her spine, like tiny insects skittering beneath her skin. This wasn't right.

“Hey, you okay?” her friend Maya asked, nudging her arm. “You haven’t touched your sandwich.”

She forced a smile, a shaky performance. “Yeah, just… thinking.”