Gemotions

“I don’t understand,” Emily said, her voice tight, nearly a whisper. The professor’s expression was the same placid look she always had, as though it were a routine accusation. It felt like a personal affront. She'd spent countless hours on the project, and this professor, who barely knew her name, was saying that she had cheated.

The room seemed to shrink, the air growing thick and hard to breathe. Emily felt a heat rising in her chest, radiating outwards. The polite tone of the professor’s voice became a mocking drone. She clasped her hands together to stop them from shaking, and felt a burning sensation in her eyes. The urge to lash out, to scream, to do anything to make them understand, was almost overwhelming.