Gemotions

The letter felt like a slap. A physical blow to the stomach. Amelia crumpled it in her hand, the expensive cream paper now a weapon of destruction. The scholarship, her ticket out of that suffocating town, the thing she’d poured herself into securing. Gone.

She marched, stiff-backed, to the financial aid office. The air in there always smelled of stale coffee and crushed hopes. The clerk, a woman with tired eyes and a name tag that read “Brenda,” began speaking in her usual calm tones, but Amelia cut her off.

"This is unacceptable," Amelia stated, her voice tight. "I have not failed any classes. I meet the requirements.” Brenda simply gave a sad smile. Amelia leaned in closer, her voice growing sharper. "I deserve this."