Gemotions

He stared at the ceiling of his dorm room, the harsh fluorescent lights blurring. The failing grade, a resounding "F", had rendered him speechless. He'd envisioned himself graduating, getting a good job, making his parents proud. The paper lay on his desk, a constant reminder of his failure. He closed his eyes, willing the sensation in his chest to dissipate. He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture conveying a fatigue that went beyond physical exhaustion. The room was a prison.