Gemotions

Rain lashed against the window of Maya's dorm room, mirroring the turmoil inside her. The professor’s words, a cold voice on the printed feedback sheet, echoed in her head. "Lacking in critical analysis." That single sentence had shattered the illusion of success she'd meticulously crafted. She ripped the paper, then crumpled it in her fist, knuckles white. A sob clawed at her throat. She sank to the floor, her back against the cold, damp wall. Hours later, the remnants of the essay lay scattered around her, a map of failure.