Gemotions

The paper lay face down on the desk, the red "C-" glaring at Maya from beneath the sheet. Her hands trembled as she forced herself to flip it over. She had spent weeks on that essay, fueled by endless cups of coffee and the desperate hope of an A. The words swam before her eyes, blurring the professor's critiques into meaningless scribbles. A hollow ache bloomed in her chest, stealing her breath. She pushed herself away from the desk, the chair screeching against the linoleum floor. She needed air.

Outside, the late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the campus. It was as if the world was mocking her, oblivious to the chasm that had opened inside of her. She found herself wandering, aimlessly, kicking at pebbles on the sidewalk. Each step felt heavy, each breath shallow. She felt like an invisible string had been snapped.