❝ i'm on the outside of the greatest inside joke ❞
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
016. letters
𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐀 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐆𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒, each one feeling like a twisted joke. Ingrid barely glanced at them anymore, tossing each rejection aside. Due to recent controversies… Every single one said the same thing. She told herself it didn’t matter, that these institutions didn’t define her. But as her gaze fell on the envelope from NYU, the one she’d wanted more than any other, her hands began to tremble.
Bruce called out from the kitchen, his voice laced with hopeful anticipation. “Did it come?”
Ingrid didn’t answer. Her fingers, slightly unsteady, tore open the envelope. It was like she was a kid again, peeling back wrapping paper on Christmas morning. Bruce had wandered into the doorway now, watching his daughter’s face with gentle pride and optimism. But as she scanned the words, he saw the shift, the hope in her eyes crumbling. She closed her eyes, willing the letter to say something different. It didn’t.
We are sorry to inform you that due to recent controversies, we are unable to consider your application at this time.
It was a slap, the kind that left a bitter sting deep inside, a reminder that her dreams didn’t stand a chance against the world’s perception of her. “Bullshit,” she muttered under her breath, her voice breaking.
Bruce’s voice softened, breaking the silence. “What does it say?”
But she couldn’t look at him. The sting in her eyes turned to tears that blurred her vision as she stumbled down the hallway, clutching the letter. She barely noticed her own steps, her feet carrying her to the bathroom, where she shut the door hard behind her. Sliding down onto the cold tiles, she held the rejection close to her chest, the words burning into her mind like a cruel brand.
She heard her dad’s footsteps stop outside the door. “Ingrid,” he called gently, his voice a comforting murmur through the barrier. “Come on. Let’s talk.”
But Ingrid only clenched her jaw, blinking hard, trying to contain the rush of emotion. She felt like she was about to drown. “Just…just go away, Dad!” she choked out, wiping away a stray tear with the back of her hand. “I want to be alone!”
Silence fell, and for a moment, she thought he had left. But then he spoke again, barely a whisper. “Can I at least see it?”
With a sigh, she placed the letter on the floor, sliding it through the small gap under the door. She could almost picture the pain on his face, the way his shoulders would slump as he read the rejection that had crushed her.
A quiet minute passed, and then his voice came again, so soft and determined that it broke something inside her. “This…this doesn’t mean anything, Ingrid. You’re the brightest person I know—”
