Gemotions

A cold dread seeped into Amelia’s bones as she stepped back into her room. The air was heavy, the usual scent of coffee and laundry detergent replaced by an unfamiliar, suffocating stillness. There, on her desk, lay her journal. Closed, but not quite in the same position she had left it.

She swallowed hard, a metallic taste coating her tongue. Her roommate, Jessica, was lounging on her bed, scrolling through her phone. Amelia’s hands began to shake uncontrollably.

"Did you... were you looking at my journal?" she managed to ask, her voice thin and wavering. The silence that followed was excruciating. She felt a pressure building in her chest, a desperate need to scream, to lash out, to understand.