Gemotions

The email arrived late, a digital dagger in the quiet of my dorm room. A 'D' on the midterm. I re-read it, each word seared into my brain. My jaw clenched so tight, my teeth ached. This wasn't just a low grade; this felt like an indictment.

I immediately started pacing, the small space feeling like a cage. Every creak of the floorboards, every distant siren, set my teeth on edge. I grabbed my notes, flipping through pages with frenzied energy, searching for something, anything, I might have missed.

"It can't be right," I muttered to myself, my voice barely a whisper. I had to prove it. I had to see the exam again, understand where I went wrong. The shadows in the room seemed to deepen, as if the very air was pressing down, amplifying my unease.