Gemotions

The email arrived like a punch to the gut. Amelia’s hands flew to her mouth, her fingers fumbling against her lips as she reread the subject line: “Urgent Announcement Regarding University Operations.” The carefully crafted words blurred before her eyes. She felt a sudden, oppressive heat rise in her chest, making it hard to breathe.

She scrambled out of her chair, knocking over a stack of textbooks. They tumbled onto the floor, scattering notes and highlighting pens. Her gaze darted around her tiny dorm room, taking in the posters, the half-packed boxes – relics of a life meticulously planned and now, seemingly, disintegrating. A low, guttural sound escaped her throat.

“No, no, no,” she whispered, her voice cracking. Her roommate, Sarah, was still asleep, oblivious to the impending chaos. Amelia needed to do something, anything. She grabbed her phone, her fingers trembling as she dialed her mother’s number.