Gemotions

The words echoed in her head: "Not enough to make the cut." Sarah slammed her locker shut with a resounding thud. The metallic clang vibrated through her bones, a perfect reflection of the turmoil within. She felt a throbbing pulse in her temples, a relentless rhythm of resentment. The cheerleaders’ high-pitched laughter grated on her nerves.

She'd dedicated her life to this, sacrificed everything. Every early morning, every grueling practice, every aching muscle had been for this, and now it was over. She felt a burning pressure behind her eyes, the sting of unshed tears.

Her knuckles were white as she gripped the handle of her gym bag, nearly ripping it from its hinges. The coach’s words, a hollow echo, replayed in her mind. She needed to get out, away from the cloying sweetness of victory that filled the air. She needed to breathe.