Gemotions

The email arrived like a poisoned dart. Sarah stared at the subject line – "Important Announcement Regarding the Future of Oakhaven University" – her stomach twisting into a knot. She’d paid her tuition, signed the lease on her tiny apartment, and dreamed of graduating. Now, all that felt like a fragile sandcastle at the water's edge.

She clicked the link, her fingers trembling. The words blurred before her eyes, but the gist was clear: Oakhaven was shutting down. Her breath hitched. She felt a sudden, suffocating pressure in her chest, as if a great weight had been placed upon it.

Sarah slammed her laptop shut. The click echoed in the small room. She rose, pacing the cramped space. Each step felt heavy, each breath shallow. She ran a hand through her hair, tugging at the strands until her scalp prickled with discomfort. She wanted to scream, but no sound would come.