Rain lashed against the window of the university library, mirroring the relentless drumming in Elias's chest. He stared out at the blurred cityscape, a grey world reflecting his own internal state. Accusations of plagiarism, a shadow cast over all his work. It felt like someone had stolen the sun, leaving only a perpetual twilight. He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture that did nothing to soothe the persistent tension knotting his shoulders. The air in the library felt thick, heavy, suffocating. He wanted to scream.
He picked up the offending essay, the printout feeling coarse and unfamiliar in his trembling hands. The words swam before his eyes. It was his work, wasn't it? He remembered the late nights, the research, the struggle to articulate his thoughts. Had it all been for nothing? A wave of nausea churned in his stomach. He felt utterly and completely defeated, his vibrant optimism turned to ash.
His phone buzzed. A message from his mother: "Are you alright, darling? I heard the news." He wanted to ignore it. He didn't have the energy to explain, to pretend. Instead, he slowly typed back, "Fine." The lie hung in the air, a bitter taste on his tongue. He closed his eyes, wishing he could simply disappear.