Gemotions

“But I was sure,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. The weight of the crumpled tryout results in my hand felt substantial. It was heavier than my backpack, heavier than my own body. The coach's casual, dismissive tone haunted me. I’d given everything. All the training, all the sacrifices – for what?

My apartment seemed suddenly small, confining. I needed space. I needed air. I flung open the window, letting the cold night air rush in. The city lights below seemed mocking, glittering and indifferent. I felt a surge of nausea.