Gemotions

The envelope felt heavy in Amelia's hands, heavier than it should have. It was a thick, official-looking thing, and she knew, with a sinking certainty, what awaited her inside. She sat on her bed, the crisp white sheets a stark contrast to the churning in her stomach.

She carefully sliced the envelope open, the sound echoing in the silent room. The words on the page swam before her eyes, a jumble of formal language that ultimately meant one thing: No. Disappointment clawed at her throat, making it difficult to breathe. She felt the tears welling, hot and unwelcome, threatening to spill over.

She closed her eyes, imagining the possibilities that were now closed to her. The future she had so carefully constructed in her mind suddenly seemed fragile, fractured. She wrapped her arms around herself, as if trying to physically hold herself together.