Gemotions

He paced the length of his cramped dorm room, the worn rug a familiar comfort beneath his feet. Thomas ran a hand through his already disheveled hair, the email notification a festering wound in his mind. The scholarship. Gone. Erased. Mistaken identity. The words echoed, mocking him.

He’d put everything into this: the late nights studying, the extra shifts at the diner, the constant worry gnawing at his gut. Now what? How would he pay for the textbooks, the tuition, the meager meals that kept him going?

He stopped in front of the window, staring out at the campus. Students strolled by, laughing, carefree. He clenched his fists, the blood draining from his knuckles. He could barely breathe, a suffocating heat rising in his chest, as if the air itself was trying to choke him.