Gemotions

"No, that can't be right," I mumbled, the words a dry rasp in my throat. Coach Jackson's words, still ringing in my ears, twisted in my gut. I felt a disconnect, as if my body was a puppet and someone else was pulling the strings. My legs carried me towards the equipment room, though I had no idea why.

Inside, the scent of sweat and leather filled the air, a scent that had once brought me comfort. Now, it only made my head ache. I traced the outline of a baseball bat, my fingers trembling. The familiarity should have soothed me, but it didn't.

My vision was blurred. The room swayed slightly, and the world seemed to lose its focus. I was not part of the game anymore. I was not part of the plan.