Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windowpane, mirroring the storm brewing inside Leo. He hunched over his desk, the fluorescent light casting a sickly pallor on his face. The email, a stark accusation of plagiarism, lay open on his screen, its words a dark stain on his meticulously crafted essay. He felt the familiar weight in his chest, a heavy, suffocating sensation. He wanted to scream.

He ran a hand through his already disheveled hair, the action somehow failing to alleviate the mounting pressure. He hadn't slept properly in days. The lines on his face deepened with each passing hour. He thought about calling his mother, but the lump in his throat wouldn’t allow the words to come.

He knew what he'd done. He had taken a few sentences, just a few, to bolster his arguments. Now, this. He felt the room closing in. The walls seemed to be shrinking, the air growing thick and hard to breathe. He wanted to disappear.