Gemotions

The world swam. Sarah gripped the edge of the table, knuckles white. The accusations echoed in her ears, a relentless drumbeat of perceived wrongdoing. How dare they? She'd stayed up all night, editing and re-editing, perfecting every paragraph. This wasn’t just a bad grade; it was a smear on her reputation, a black mark on her future.

Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic, trapped bird. She took a deep, shuddering breath, the air insufficient. Her vision blurred, and the brightly lit cafeteria seemed to shrink, the noise of clattering trays and chattering students growing distant, muffled. She had to get out, to escape the suffocating weight of the room. She stood abruptly, knocking over her chair in her haste, and fled.