Gemotions

"This can't be happening," Clara muttered, pacing the cramped confines of her dorm room. The scent of stale pizza and unwashed laundry did little to alleviate the pervasive sense of gloom.

She clutched her acceptance letter, the paper now seeming flimsy and fragile. The walls of her room, once filled with hope and excitement, now felt like a prison. She had to call her parents, to tell them the news, to face the disappointment she knew would be etched on their faces.

Her breath hitched, and she sank onto her bed, burying her face in the pillow. The quiet sobs that wracked her body were a symphony of loss.