Gemotions

I stared at the acceptance letter, the words blurring. Acceptance. It felt like a joke now, an insult. My hand trembled as I reread the retraction. A mistake. My scholarship, gone.

The apartment, usually a haven, felt like a prison. The silence was deafening, punctuated only by the frantic beat of my own heart. I ran my hands through my hair, feeling the strands snag. It was as if a part of me was dying.

I sat on the edge of the bed, a wave of despair washing over me. All my dreams, the future I’d painstakingly planned, felt like a shattered mosaic.