Gemotions

The walk home felt interminable. Amelia kicked a loose pebble, sending it skittering across the pavement. An F. The number – a single, stark digit – pulsed in her mind, a relentless rhythm. She felt a cold dread creeping through her, a chilling premonition of disappointment, of judgment. She’d failed. She was a failure. The trees, usually vibrant and welcoming, seemed to loom over her, their shadows stretching like grasping claws. She quickened her pace, desperate to reach the haven of her room.