Gemotions

The website's header glared back at Sarah from her laptop screen: "Secrets Uncovered." Below, a crudely rendered cartoon of a teenage girl, hair a tangled mess, clutching a diary. Sarah's stomach clenched. Her old diary, bound in glittery purple fabric, was instantly recognizable. She traced the cursor to the first post, the one that used to be her. That pathetic version of her. Her fingers, usually steady, trembled as she clicked.

A coldness settled in her chest. She scrolled, page after page of embarrassing crushes, awkward social encounters, and melodramatic pronouncements about life and love, now laid bare for the world to see. A slow smile spread across her face. This was…interesting. She knew a few names mentioned. People who had humiliated her then. People who were now, in her opinion, ripe for public exposure.

The first email she drafted was to Mark, the boy who'd laughed when she'd confessed her feelings. She found his current workplace on LinkedIn and included a link to his featured diary entry in the body. Then she added a line of her own, a casual observation about the awkwardness of his teenage fashion choices. She found a strange satisfaction in clicking "send."