Gemotions

Maya slammed her textbook shut, the sound echoing in the otherwise silent library. Her knuckles were white, gripping the worn cover so tightly she thought she might rip it. Another late night, another accusation hanging over her head. This was the third time this semester. The professor’s words – “striking similarities” – replayed in her mind, a broken record on repeat. She ran a hand through her hair, tangling her fingers. How could they not see the hours she poured into this?

She pushed back her chair, the legs screeching against the tile. Outside, the world was dark and cold. She wanted to scream, to shatter something. But the fear, the biting, icy fear, kept her frozen in place. The thought of her parents, the tuition money, the future, all of it seemed to shrink, becoming fragile, ready to break.