Gemotions

The courtroom was vast, imposing. The harsh fluorescent lights of the university hallway cast long shadows across the cold tile floor. Daniel felt as though every eye in the room was fixed on him, judging. He sat slumped in the uncomfortable wooden chair, heart hammering against his ribs.

He remembered the late nights, the pressure to maintain his grades, the constant feeling of inadequacy that always followed him. He should have been more careful, more diligent. He squeezed his eyes shut. His parents had sacrificed so much for him. How could he have let them down?

He took a shaky breath, the air tasting stale and metallic. He had to say something, anything. His mouth opened, but only a thin, strangled sound escaped. He felt small and insignificant, a pinprick of a person about to be squashed under the weight of his own misdeeds.