Gemotions

The locker room, usually a haven of pre-game energy, felt suffocating. Sarah sat on the bench, not lacing up her cleats, just... staring. She’d always been a striker. A finisher. Now, they were shifting her to defense. The coach kept repeating, "We need your speed, your aggression."

She ran her fingers over the stitching of her jersey, a familiar comfort that somehow felt off this morning. The thought of running backwards, of stopping goals instead of scoring them, filled her with a strange, unfamiliar unease.