Gemotions

The financial aid advisor’s words replayed in Maya’s head, each syllable a jab. She listened, her face draining of color. The scholarship, the lifeline that kept her afloat, was not rightfully hers.

She mechanically gathered her belongings, her movements stiff and unnatural. The walk back to her dorm was a blur. She felt a persistent, throbbing headache starting behind her eyes.

Her dorm room, usually a comfort, now felt like a prison. The posters on the walls seemed to leer, the familiar objects mocking her. She slumped onto her bed, the sheets feeling rough against her skin.