Gemotions

Her voice was almost a whisper, echoing in the cavernous apartment. "I don’t want to go," she repeated, staring at the front door. The diary was out, and she felt like a hunted animal. She wrapped her arms around herself, as if to ward off a physical assault. The thought of stepping outside, of facing the world, filled her with a paralyzing fear.

She sat on the floor, leaning against the cold wall. The details of her teenage self, the awkward phases, the unrequited love, the melodramatic declarations, all now fodder for public consumption. She felt a profound sense of betrayal, not just by whoever had published her diary, but also by her own younger self. She closed her eyes, the world spinning around her.