Gemotions

The notification blinked: "Brad Thompson sent you a friend request." Amelia stared at the screen, the fluorescent light of her cramped apartment reflecting in her wide eyes. Brad Thompson. The boy who’d made her life a misery in sixth grade. Her fingers, usually clumsy, fumbled over the mouse, hovering over the "confirm" button. The tiny, chipped nail on her index finger gnawed at itself.

She hadn't spoken to anyone in three days, surviving on instant ramen and the blurry glow of the television. The silence of her apartment was a suffocating blanket. Maybe she should just hide. Perhaps crawling under the covers would be the only way to escape. The silence felt so heavy.

A pang of nausea hit her, a familiar companion these days. She closed her eyes, picturing Brad, his sneering face, the way he'd always found her an easy target. The request felt like a trap.