Gemotions

The test score, a devastating 'D', felt like a physical blow to Eleanor. She'd worked harder on this project than anything in her life. It was personal. This professor, a woman with a reputation for playing favorites, was clearly biased.

Eleanor began to focus her ire on the professor's beloved pet project: the campus garden. Late at night, cloaked in darkness, she started small. Snapping the stems of prize-winning roses. Cutting the irrigation pipes. It was a silent rebellion, a quiet sabotage.

She watched from her window as the professor fussed over the wilting plants. A grim smile touched her lips. This was a long game, a slow burn of frustration.