Gemotions

A tremor ran through Maria. She gripped the lacrosse stick so tightly her knuckles whitened. The coach’s pronouncement, that she was needed in the midfield, hung in the air like a noxious gas. She was a goalie, renowned for her lightning reflexes and fearless dives. Now, she was supposed to chase down ground balls?

Her breath hitched. The sun seemed to intensify, baking her skin. She glanced at the goal, her sanctuary, and a wave of despair washed over her. She imagined herself, exposed and vulnerable, the object of every attack. The image was a nightmare.

She stammered, "But I... I don't know how to do that." The words sounded childish, inadequate. Her teammates, normally supportive, looked away. This was a catastrophe.