Gemotions

The accusation felt like a physical blow. Amelia’s cheeks burned, and a prickle of sweat erupted on her forehead. The professor’s words, sharp and cold, echoed in the sudden silence of the office. She clenched her jaw, focusing on the intricate pattern of the rug to avoid meeting his gaze. A low hum filled her ears, a prelude to the rush of blood she could feel pulsing behind her eyes. Her fingers, usually quick and nimble, fumbled with the strap of her bag as she tried to gather her things.

She managed a shaky, “I, uh, I don’t understand.” Her voice was thin, almost lost in the room. Inside, a frantic energy vibrated, a need to flee, to disappear. She wanted to be anywhere but there, confronted with the weight of his disapproval, a judgement that felt deeply personal.

Walking out into the hallway, the fluorescent lights felt too bright, the air too close. She pulled her scarf tighter, as if to ward off a sudden chill. The world, usually vibrant and full of promise, had shrunk, the colors muted. She needed to be alone.