Gemotions

"I don't understand," she whispered, her voice cracking as she spoke to her roommate. It was the only sentence she'd uttered in hours. The injustice of it all felt like a physical blow.

She paced the small dorm room, her mind a frantic carousel of thoughts and anxieties. Her hands wrung each other continuously, twisting and turning, seeking some kind of purchase against the relentless tide of fear. The walls seemed to be closing in.

Every memory of the last few weeks was tainted, now. The late nights, the research, the agonizing effort – all for nothing, it seemed. She felt the tears welling up, threatening to spill over.