Gemotions

The university’s email, subject line: "Congratulations! Your essay is featured!" felt like an insult. David balled his hands into fists. He had written about his foster care experience, the years of instability and loneliness, in that essay. It was supposed to be between him and the admissions committee, not the entire world.

He felt the sting of tears behind his eyes. He stood and paced the small confines of his apartment. He was furious, embarrassed, and, unexpectedly, a little scared. They had violated a trust. He grabbed his coat, the fabric rough against his skin.

He'd show them what he was made of, a demonstration of strength that required no words. He would call them, and when he was done, they would understand that he was not an object.