Gemotions

The silence in the locker room was almost as painful as the sting in his eyes. He sat on the bench, picking at the loose threads of his jersey. His hands trembled slightly, and his chest felt tight, like a vise was squeezing it. He’d spent years dreaming of playing for the Wildcats, of wearing the iconic blue and gold.

He listened to the happy chatter of his teammates packing their bags, preparing for the upcoming season. Each laugh, each shared joke, felt like a deliberate jab. He wanted to say something, anything, but the words wouldn’t come.

He pulled his hood up, trying to hide his face. It was unbearable. He stood, quietly gathered his things, and slipped out of the locker room, without a word, feeling as small as a mouse.