Gemotions

The room seemed to shrink, the walls closing in on him. John felt a strange buzzing in his ears, a high-pitched whine that drowned out Coach Harrison's voice. The explanation, the reasoning, washed over him, completely unheeded. He stared at his feet, scuffing the toe of his shoe against the worn carpet. His hands clenched into fists, nails digging into his palms. He wanted to shout, to argue, to deny it all, but the words were trapped, frozen in his throat. He could only nod, a mechanical gesture of agreement that felt foreign and wrong.