Gemotions

The coffee cup trembled in Mark’s hand, sloshing dark liquid onto the worn table. He’d barely slept in days, the accusations a relentless drill in his brain. The lecture hall, normally a place of comfort and learning, now felt hostile, the faces of his classmates blurred and judgmental.

He kept replaying the events of the last few weeks in his mind, searching for an explanation, a clue, anything. He had a vague memory of downloading some articles online; was it possible he'd accidentally included something without proper citation? The thought sent a jolt of panic through him.

He avoided the cafeteria, preferring the solitude of the library, but even there, the hushed whispers and rustling pages seemed to follow him. He felt like he was constantly being watched.