Gemotions

The email sat in her inbox, a malevolent little square of digital dread. Maya stared at it, the cursor blinking mockingly on the subject line: “Scholarship Application Update.” Her fingers, usually nimble on the keyboard, felt heavy, leaden. She’d been so sure, so convinced this scholarship was hers. The air in her small dorm room suddenly felt thick, oppressive, like a woolen blanket in summer.

She reached for her water bottle, but the plastic felt cold and unfamiliar in her hand. The image of her parents, sacrificing everything, flashed across her mind. She clenched her jaw. Damn it. She should have heard back by now. She slowly opened the email, the screen's light assaulting her eyes.

Reading the message was like a physical blow. Her breath hitched. She slammed the laptop shut, the sound echoing in the sudden silence. The world seemed to tilt on its axis. The tiny, cheerful poster she had put up on her wall, suddenly seemed mocking.