Gemotions

Maya ran a hand through her already disheveled hair, the strands catching on her chipped nail polish. The library was suffocating today, the air thick with the scent of old paper and suppressed coughs. She slammed her textbook shut, the sound echoing a bit too loudly in the otherwise silent room. A sudden urge to be outside, to feel the sun on her skin, clawed at her. Maybe a walk would help. She hadn't even finished the first chapter of the assigned reading.

A week ago, she’d received the email: “Congratulations, Maya Sharma, on receiving the prestigious Chancellor’s Scholarship.” It was a lifeline. Now, the weight of the book felt heavier, the pressure to succeed crushing. She knew, deep down, something wasn't right. There was a name, a familiar face, that was supposed to get it. The pang of guilt made her want to run.

She grabbed her backpack, the straps digging into her shoulders. As she walked out, she quickened her pace, desperate to reach somewhere, anywhere, where the air felt less stagnant.