Gemotions

He couldn't focus on the lecture. The professor’s words seemed to blur, replaced by a constant internal monologue of fear. Every phrase, every sentence, seemed to be directed at him. His leg bounced incessantly, a frantic rhythm against the hard floor.

He tried to concentrate, but the words swam before his eyes. He felt a bead of sweat trickle down his temple. The classroom, normally a place of learning, had become a cage. He couldn't breathe.

He imagined the disapproving looks, the whispers, the shame. He had ruined everything. He couldn’t shake the feeling of impending doom. He wanted to scream.