Gemotions

The feeling was a cold, hard lump in David’s chest. The grade, a "C-," seemed to taunt him. He wanted to rip the paper to shreds, to obliterate the evidence of his perceived failure. His mouth was dry, his throat constricted.

He watched his classmates chattering happily, their carefree attitudes a personal affront. He wanted to silence them, to shut out their oblivious joy. The library felt claustrophobic.

He closed his laptop with a snap, the sound echoing in the quiet room. He felt a surge of energy, a restless need to move, to destroy. He had to get away.