Gemotions

Sarah felt her vision blur. The fluorescent lights of the gymnasium seemed to intensify, creating a blinding halo around Coach Thompson. She’d idolized him since she was a little girl, watching him guide the team to victory year after year. Now, the man himself stood before her, his face a mask of practiced neutrality. She could barely manage a nod when he motioned her towards the empty bleachers.

Each footstep felt impossibly heavy. The squeak of her sneakers against the polished wood was deafening. The bleachers were a vast, empty expanse, echoing with the ghosts of past games. She sat down, her hands clammy, her stomach a tight knot. The coach sat beside her, the air around him thick with an unspoken weight.