Gemotions

"This can't be happening," Clara muttered, staring at the message on her phone. She felt her stomach drop, a physical sensation she couldn't ignore. She reread the words, the phrases seeming to mock her. The words felt like a cruel joke.

She needed air. She pushed herself away from her desk, the chair scraping loudly against the wooden floor. She paced her small apartment, the confines of her living space feeling constricting. She pressed her hands against her temples, trying to ward off the throbbing in her head.

The thought of all that work, all the nights spent studying, all the sacrifices. The frustration was almost unbearable. Her eyes stung with unshed tears.