Gemotions

The dorm room felt cold, even with the heater cranked up. Maya sat cross-legged on her bed, clutching the letter to her chest. Her breath hitched. The scholarship was gone. Someone else would get to live the dream she'd been meticulously crafting for years.

She traced the faded pattern on her bedspread, a futile act of distraction. The cheerful posters on her wall – travel destinations, academic achievements – seemed to mock her, reminders of a future now stolen.

She hadn't spoken to anyone since she read the letter. The silence in the room was deafening, the shadows seeming to stretch and deepen with the encroaching dusk. The only sound was the frantic beating of her own heart.