Gemotions

“Please, just tell me what I did wrong!” Mark’s voice was strained, bordering on desperation. He stood before the university’s disciplinary committee, feeling like he was trapped in a slow-motion nightmare.

The panel members sat impassively, their faces betraying no emotion. The room was sterile, the lighting harsh. The silence between the pronouncements was deafening, amplified by his racing pulse. He wanted to shout, to break the oppressive calm, to demand an answer.

He shifted from foot to foot, unable to stay still. He had waited for months for this hearing, and now he felt like he was being subjected to some sort of psychological torture. He had planned to go to the movies tonight. He had to be somewhere.