Gemotions

“What did I do wrong?” John murmured, the question a desperate plea to the empty room. He was a good student. He always had been. This wasn't supposed to happen. He felt a cold, creeping sensation spreading through his limbs, turning them to lead. He needed to fix this, to make it disappear.

He reread the comments, seeking the explanation, the key to reversing this disaster. He felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to argue, to defend himself. He started typing a reply to the email, then deleted it, the words seeming inadequate, meaningless. He slammed his fist on the desk, the sound echoing in the stillness.