Gemotions

The email sat in his inbox, mocking him. Subject: Scholarship Award. He’d read it a dozen times, the words blurring, yet the bitter taste remained. He slammed his fist on the desk, scattering papers. He was supposed to be celebrating, not simmering. This felt like a deliberate act, a personal affront.

He grabbed his worn backpack, shoving books inside with unnecessary force. The campus, usually a vibrant space, felt suffocating. He wanted to scream, to lash out, to make someone – anyone – feel the crushing weight in his chest. Each cheerful face on the quad was a fresh wound, a reminder of his own perceived deprivation.

He stomped towards the financial aid office, a plan beginning to form in his mind. He would find out who this "deserving" student was. He would make them regret existing.