Gemotions

The accusation felt like a punch to the gut. My own words, stolen. Used. But by whom? As I walked home, the city lights blurred through a veil of unshed tears.

I imagined Alex, the class's golden boy, the one everyone loved, the one who always seemed to get everything right. I had shared my research notes with him. Now, he was probably laughing somewhere, enjoying the prize.

A wave of nausea washed over me. The world seemed to tilt on its axis. My own work, discarded, replaced with a fabricated masterpiece. My legs felt weak as I kicked a can down the street.