Gemotions

The hallway buzzed with the usual post-exam chatter, but for Daniel, it was a cacophony of white noise. He clutched the graded test, a devastating C, as if it were a poisonous snake. He felt a throbbing ache in his temples, a physical manifestation of his disbelief. He had studied, he had prepared, he had *tried*.

He jammed the test into his backpack, the crumpled paper a symbol of his inadequacy. He pushed past the other students, their smiles and casual conversations grating on his nerves. He didn't want to talk, he didn't want to be consoled. He just wanted to disappear. He stormed outside, needing air, needing space, needing *something* to stop this feeling of utter helplessness.