Memoir Case

The white walls of my room became whiter, like a pure blanket of untouched snow on an early morning, right before the break of dawn; snow that falls before the world awakens in it's moments of struggle and obstacles; snow that is frail and unmarked by the impurities and dirt this world brings. Everything had lost its color from my vibrant red and black curtains, to my pastel colored prayer mat. That email, from Mr. Foss, was going to tell me if I had achieved my dream. That email was going to tell me if all the hard work that I had done was going to pay off. My extensively researched policy statements, the carefully delivered speeches, praying and trusting in God - I was going to know the consequences of it all. That email carried the weight of the world, it triggered anxiety more than I ever felt. I clicked on it after taking a deep breath to see what fate had in store for me. My eyes rapidly skipped the message to all the candidates and I spontaneously skimmed through the list of people and there was not a single name that started with an 'N.' My heart began to beat faster as I slowly went through the list again in hopes that I had misread the list, but I certainly had not. I wasn't selected; I wasn't good enough.