Gemotions

“But… I’m a midfielder,” Marco stammered, his voice rising in pitch. The words felt inadequate, hollow. He felt a buzzing in his ears, a pressure building behind his eyes. He squeezed them shut, trying to block out the harsh fluorescent lights of the gymnasium. He imagined the vast, unfamiliar space of the goalkeeper's box, the pressure of responsibility, the inevitable mistakes. He swallowed hard, trying to regain control, but the fear was like a wild animal, clawing its way up his throat. He shook his head, a desperate denial.