WV: Quick Fic: Not Good Enough
Title: Not Good Enough
Prompt: Mist
Bonus? yes, sort of
Word Count: 308
Rating: PG-13
Original/Fandom: Original
Summary: A letter from university arrives and it isn't good news
We regret to inform you that you haven't been accepted to our program. HAVEN'T BEEN ACCEPTED.
These damning words seem to jump up with glee as I read through the letter. Tears mist up my eyes as I realize that my dream of becoming a world renowned artist has shattered into a million tiny pieces. Yet, the words still aren't dimmed by the thick mist of despair that sits uncomfortably on my heart, growing heavier as the seconds and minutes go by. They shine brightly mocking me.
There were better candidates. We wish you the best of luck in your future endeavours.
All I understand that I wasn't good enough for them, not good enough to be seriously considered. It hurt that thought, when all I had ever dreamed of was joining the High Arts Institute and now I'll never get in.
The mist becomes thicker as a hand reaches out towards me. It takes the letter from me before returning and closing me in a hug. "It's okay, Sweetie. You can try again next year."
No, it isn't okay. What would trying again next year help? Be rejected again for a second time doesn't feel okay and in my daze I am convinced that they would reject me again. So what is the use for trying again?
I shake out of my mother's embrace pleading that I need some fresh air.
Once outside, the cold morning air doesn't help lift the fog coating me. A sob claws it's way up my throat and I finally let it out as I slide down the wall to the wet ground. I don't know how long I sit there sobbing-- all I know for certain is that the future I had hoped to build for myself has crumbled down to the ground leaving me with nothing.
This entry was originally posted at http://pinkphoenix1985.dreamwidth.org/960897.html. Please comment there using OpenID.
Prompt: Mist
Bonus? yes, sort of
Word Count: 308
Rating: PG-13
Original/Fandom: Original
Summary: A letter from university arrives and it isn't good news
We regret to inform you that you haven't been accepted to our program. HAVEN'T BEEN ACCEPTED.
These damning words seem to jump up with glee as I read through the letter. Tears mist up my eyes as I realize that my dream of becoming a world renowned artist has shattered into a million tiny pieces. Yet, the words still aren't dimmed by the thick mist of despair that sits uncomfortably on my heart, growing heavier as the seconds and minutes go by. They shine brightly mocking me.
There were better candidates. We wish you the best of luck in your future endeavours.
All I understand that I wasn't good enough for them, not good enough to be seriously considered. It hurt that thought, when all I had ever dreamed of was joining the High Arts Institute and now I'll never get in.
The mist becomes thicker as a hand reaches out towards me. It takes the letter from me before returning and closing me in a hug. "It's okay, Sweetie. You can try again next year."
No, it isn't okay. What would trying again next year help? Be rejected again for a second time doesn't feel okay and in my daze I am convinced that they would reject me again. So what is the use for trying again?
I shake out of my mother's embrace pleading that I need some fresh air.
Once outside, the cold morning air doesn't help lift the fog coating me. A sob claws it's way up my throat and I finally let it out as I slide down the wall to the wet ground. I don't know how long I sit there sobbing-- all I know for certain is that the future I had hoped to build for myself has crumbled down to the ground leaving me with nothing.
This entry was originally posted at http://pinkphoenix1985.dreamwidth.org/960897.html. Please comment there using OpenID.