Gemotions

Eliza clutched the acceptance letter, the crisp paper now crumpled and defiled. The initial joy had curdled, leaving behind a bitter residue. She had spent the last two months basking in the glow of her accomplishment, imagining a future free from financial worry, a future she now realized didn't belong to her. The weight of it settled on her shoulders, a physical burden. She avoided eye contact with her roommate, busily pretending to study while her mind raced with a jumble of anxieties.

She considered telling her parents, but the words caught in her throat. She imagined her mother's disappointment, her father's quiet anger. The thought made her want to retreat, to hide away in her room and never come out. She found herself picking at the threadbare edges of her duvet, a nervous habit that had become more frequent since the news.