Gemotions

"No, no, that can't be right," I stammered, the words catching in my throat. My voice sounded small and brittle, not like my own. I was supposed to be celebrating, not facing this. The email lay open on my laptop, the subject line a cruel joke: "Scholarship Update." The details were cold, clinical, outlining a mistake that meant I wouldn't be receiving the funding. The thought of going back home, of disappointing everyone, clenched my stomach. I got up from the table, needing to move, needing to escape the suffocating presence of this reality. My legs felt heavy, as if I were wading through molasses. The cheerful posters on my dorm room wall, the reminders of my academic goals, felt like a taunt.