Gemotions

The email sat in Amelia’s inbox, a stark white rectangle that throbbed with a threat she couldn’t quite name. "Congratulations!" it shouted, followed by the saccharine words, "Your essay has been selected…" Selected for what? To be dissected? To be judged by a panel of people who didn’t know her? Her jaw tightened. She clicked on the link anyway, the sound of the mouse loud in the suddenly silent room. There it was: her essay, her raw, vulnerable thoughts, plastered across the website of the most prestigious university in the country. A flush crept up her neck, even though she knew she had nothing to hide. Or did she? She closed the laptop with a snap, the click echoing the defiance rising within her. She would not read the comments. She would not seek validation. She would not, under any circumstances, allow this to ruin her Friday night.