Gemotions

It started as a tremor, a subtle shaking in his legs. Now, the coach's words had turned it into a full-blown earthquake. “We’re moving you to the bench, Davis. We need to try someone new at shortstop.” He blinked, focusing on the coach's face. The room blurred.

He wanted to argue, to scream the utter idiocy of it all. He bit his lip so hard, he tasted blood. Years of work, all the sacrifices – for what? His hands felt clumsy, detached from his body.

The locker room became a suffocating tomb, the air thick with unspoken resentment. He quickly grabbed his bag, ignoring his teammate’s concerned glances. He slammed the door, the sound echoing his inner turmoil.