Gemotions

The email arrived like a poisoned dart. "Closing," it announced in the subject line, the word mocking her very existence. Sarah felt a surge of something hot and bitter bloom in her chest. She reread the message, the polite apologies and assurances of support doing nothing to soothe the tremor in her hands. Good. Let the hallowed halls crumble.

She immediately opened a new tab and began compiling a list. A list of everything wrong with the university, everything she'd suffered, all the slights, real and imagined. She’d always known this place would fail. Now, she would make sure it was a spectacular, public failure.

Sarah decided to start small. A strategically placed anonymous tip to the local news. An exposé on the outdated computer labs. Her fingers flew across the keyboard, shaping accusations, twisting truths, painting a picture of neglect and incompetence. She reveled in the thought of the chaos she was about to unleash.