Gemotions

Liam stared at the ceiling, the fluorescent lights of his dorm room blurring through his tears. He'd always prided himself on his intelligence, on his ability to craft elegant arguments and persuasive prose. Now, facing the accusations, his carefully constructed facade crumbled.

He’d known, deep down, that the research paper was too good. The words, the ideas, they flowed so effortlessly, yet now they choked him. He clenched his fists, feeling the tremors run through his body. He’d told himself he was merely inspired, but now, doubt, a cruel and biting wind, whipped through his mind.

He tossed the covers aside and sat up, the room spinning slightly. The textbooks on his desk were mocking him, each spine a silent accusation. He grabbed a pen and furiously began to scribble on a blank sheet, but the words felt hollow and meaningless. He needed to make it right.