Gemotions

The letter, crisp and official, lay on Maya's desk, a poisoned dart. The joy of acceptance, the relief of financial security, all evaporated in an instant. Her hands shook as she picked it up, the paper feeling rough against her skin. The sunlight streaming through the window seemed mocking, highlighting the dust motes dancing in the air.

She went to the mirror, and the reflection staring back was alien. She barely recognized the pale face and the way her lips were drawn into a tight, thin line. Her breath came in shallow, rapid bursts, as if she was underwater and desperately trying to reach the surface.

The vibrant colours of her dorm room, once a source of comfort, now seemed garish, the posters on the wall suddenly too bright. She sank onto the bed, the mattress sinking beneath her, a tangible representation of her own sinking feeling.