Gemotions

The notice, a stark white rectangle, stared back at him. It announced the impending closure of Oakhaven College. Mark traced the bold letters with a fingertip, the paper feeling oddly rough and unpleasant against his skin. His stomach clenched. He’d come here believing, naively perhaps, that this was his fresh start. Now, everything felt… wrong.

He hadn't been attending classes lately. The motivation had evaporated, leaving only a heavy blanket of apathy. The thought of packing, of uprooting everything again, felt like climbing a mountain made of molasses. He hadn’t spoken to his roommate in days, and the silence in their shared dorm room was as thick and suffocating as the humid air outside.

The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the empty quad. He went and sat on the cold stone of the fountain, the stagnant water reflecting a distorted version of the sky. He found himself staring at the water and wondering if it would just swallow him.