Gemotions

He ran the drills, but his mind wasn't in the game. "You're moving too slow, David," the coach had said. David, usually the fastest on the team. Now, he was being moved to defensive back. He knew he should be grateful, that it was a chance to prove himself, but the thought of letting his teammates down filled him with a cold dread.

He felt the weight of every missed tackle, every play where he was a step behind. He saw the flicker of annoyance on the other players' faces during the scrimmages. In the locker room, he avoided eye contact, shrinking into himself. The silence between them felt louder than the cheers of the crowd.

At night, he replayed every mistake, the sting of each error burning into his memory. He'd sit on the edge of his bed, replaying the game in his head and feeling a surge of inadequacy. Sleep was elusive, haunted by visions of himself failing, of being replaced.