Gemotions

The news felt like someone had kicked him in the gut. Ben let out a strangled groan, crumpling into his chair. His stomach churned, a physical manifestation of his bitter disappointment. The room, usually a haven of books and cozy warmth, suddenly felt stifling, the air thick with an unbearable pressure.

He wanted to scream, to lash out, to break something. He ran his hands through his hair, tugging at the strands as if to rip the feeling of futility right out of his head. He looked at the application, now a piece of trash. Then he dropped his head onto the desk, his face pressed against the cold, smooth wood.

The thought of facing his parents and their certain disappointment filled him with a deep sense of aversion.