Gemotions

The email arrived, a digital slap in the face. “Congratulations! Your essay, ‘The Art of Un-Baking,’ has been selected for publication…” She crumpled the laptop shut, the metallic clang echoing in the otherwise silent apartment. Her hands, balled into fists, throbbed with a dull ache. She felt a heat rising from her stomach, a burning that threatened to consume her.

She stalked to the window, the city lights blurring through unshed tears. This wasn’t a celebration. This was a violation. That essay was raw, a confession of her deepest insecurities, of her struggles with an eating disorder. Now, it would be dissected, judged, and devoured by the internet. She imagined the smirks, the pitying glances.

She slammed her fist against the cold glass. The application essay was supposed to be private, a gateway for her alone to get into the institution of her choice, not fodder for a textbook. She could barely breathe, a suffocating pressure clamping down on her chest.