Gemotions

A cold sweat slicked my palms. I could barely breathe. The Dean's office was a sterile, unforgiving space, the sunlight slicing through the blinds like judgmental knives. My scholarship, the one that kept me afloat, was a clerical error. A name, a social security number, misplaced. My carefully constructed life, the one I had balanced on a tightrope of ramen noodles and library late nights, was about to unravel. My vision blurred. I wanted to scream, to shatter the pristine surfaces of the room, but my throat was locked, a vise clamping down on any sound.