Gemotions

The coach’s words hung in the air: “We need you in the midfield.” From striker to a more defensive position. He smiled, but I could almost hear the hidden message. I walked off the field, the familiar thwack of the ball fading into a dull roar. A wave of dizziness washed over me. What had I done wrong?

At home, I kept looking at my phone, checking for calls or messages, a desperate search for reassurance. My hand trembled as I ate. My stomach felt like lead. The shadows in my room seemed to lengthen, taking on sinister shapes. I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, of being judged. Every creak of the house startled me.