Jessica Violo

The Door to the Left

The heat was unbearable. Emma laid sprawled on her white comforter, white T-shirt clinging to her skin. She felt the cold breeze of the fan tease her skin as it blew by. Scanning her room, her eyes fell upon her laptop which was placed on top of a pile of papers for her schooling. With a groan and as much effort as possible she rolled over off the bed, toes meeting the cold tiles welcoming the few seconds of pleasure with a sigh of relief. Grabbing the laptop, she flopped back onto her bed. As if on cue, as soon as her fingers lifted the computer screen, a Facetime call rang on her screen with the name “Becks”.