Gemotions

The referee's whistle blew, and a wave of dizziness swept over Olivia. “Sweeper?” The coach’s words hung in the air, a cruel, mocking echo. Her breath hitched in her chest. She pictured herself, alone on defense, the last line of protection. She felt a burning sensation in her throat. She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. The familiar comfort of her forward position, the thrill of the goal, seemed to vanish, replaced by a dark, suffocating uncertainty. She felt as though she might simply shatter, a fragile thing.