Gemotions

"Just like that, you're a libero," her coach had declared with casual authority. The words echoed in her head, bouncing off the walls of the gym. Her skin prickled. Elena, the team's primary hitter, had to switch. Volleyball was her life. Her world revolved around the perfect spike, the satisfying thud of the ball against her palm.

Now, she was a back-row defender. She felt a tremor in her jaw, her teeth grinding together. Her hands, usually strong and steady, felt restless. She stared at the net, a barrier suddenly separating her from the game she loved. The other players' chatter seemed distant, muffled. A feeling of dread coiled in her chest.