Gemotions

Liam stared at the ceiling of his dorm room, his breath hitching in his throat. The accusation echoed in his mind, a relentless loop of "unoriginal work," "suspicious similarities." He sat up, pushing the covers away, feeling a wave of nausea rise. He felt as though the floor beneath him was tilting.

He had to clear his name. He had to explain. But the words seemed to have vanished, lost in the overwhelming surge of fear. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands, a frustrated gesture born of sheer desperation.

His phone buzzed. It was his mother. He couldn't face her. He switched it off, the silence amplifying the deafening roar in his ears. He wanted to scream, to lash out, to make the feeling in his gut go away. It felt as though his future was collapsing around him.