Gemotions

The glossy rejection letter sat on her dresser, a stark contrast to the hopeful applications she’d meticulously crafted. She wouldn't look at it. She knew the contents by heart. The polite dismissal. The empty promises. They didn't understand. They couldn't.

She spent the day avoiding her family, retreating to her room where the shadows felt less judgmental. The afternoon sun cast long, accusing fingers across her bed. She turned on the music loud, anything to drown out the internal roar.

The dinner table felt like a battlefield. Each comment, each innocuous question, felt like a deliberate jab. She barely spoke, picking at her food, a wall of silence erected between her and her well-meaning parents.