Gemotions

A cold dread coiled in Leo’s stomach as he scrolled through the online page. There it was: his diary, digitized, accessible to anyone with an internet connection. His skin prickled with a mixture of shame and anger. He needed to do something; he couldn’t simply let it fester.

He gripped the mouse, his knuckles white. The words on the screen – his innermost thoughts, his silly dreams, his youthful angst – mocked him. He imagined his friends reading it, laughing, pointing. His face burned. He closed the browser. He would not cower.

He stood and paced the cramped confines of his room, ideas forming in his mind. He needed to find the source. He needed to shut it down. He grabbed his coat, a decisive movement, and headed out the door. He’d face whoever was behind this, head held high.