Gemotions

The email arrived at precisely 8:03 AM. Amelia practically leaped out of bed, her heart already racing with a sense of triumph. The final grade for her creative writing course was in. She'd envisioned the email, imagined the elation, savored the feeling of validation after months of self-doubt. She clicked the link.

"C". That single letter seemed to scream at her from the screen. She reread the grade, then scrolled down to read the professor's comments. Each critique felt like a personal insult, chipping away at the foundation of her confidence. The vibrant colours of her bedroom seemed to fade into a dull grey. Her fingers trembled as she typed a reply.