Gemotions

The email sat in Maya's inbox, a stark white rectangle against the dark background. She’d read it a dozen times, each time the words twisting in her gut like a cold knot. It was a mistake, they said. Her scholarship, the one that paid for everything, wasn’t hers. The blood drained from her face, leaving her feeling lightheaded. She reread the sentence, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the mouse.

A tremor ran through her, starting in her jaw and spreading down her arms. She pictured her parents, the sacrifices they’d made, the dreams they’d pinned on her. Her breath hitched. She needed air, suddenly, desperately. Maya closed her laptop, her movements jerky and uncoordinated, and stumbled towards the window.

The wind outside whistled, sounding like a warning. She hugged herself, trying to find some semblance of control. The dorm room suddenly felt too small, the walls closing in. She wanted to scream, to lash out, but the thought of the consequences – expulsion, the shame – kept her rooted to the spot.