Gemotions

The email notification blared, a digital siren song of doom. Amelia froze, her fingers hovering over the mouse. The subject line, "Grade for Final Presentation," felt like a punch to the gut. She clicked. C-. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic, trapped bird. She felt a burning sensation in her chest, a heat that radiated outwards.

She closed the laptop, the screen reflecting her pale, shocked face. The meticulously crafted presentation, the hours of practice, all rendered worthless. She stood abruptly, pacing the small apartment. Everything she thought was in order was now in shambles. She picked up a ceramic mug and, without a second thought, hurled it against the wall. It shattered, the pieces scattering across the floor like the shards of her academic hopes.