Gemotions

The grade was a slap in the face. She'd put everything into that English essay. All the research, the editing, the late nights. The disappointment was there, certainly. But it wasn't the dominant feeling. It felt more like a starting point, a point to build from. It made her want to write again.

She walked out of the classroom, her steps lighter than before. She headed towards the art studio. She found a blank canvas, her fingers itching to create. She grabbed a brush and started to paint. She would pour all of her thoughts into the canvas, all of her frustration, all of her determination, making her feelings known.