Gemotions

The air in the courtroom was thick, heavy with unspoken tension. Liam sat rigidly at the defendant’s table, his gaze fixed on the worn wood. The accusation hung over him, a suffocating presence. He felt as though a large invisible hand was constricting his throat.

He listened to the evidence being presented, each point a sharp jab to his gut. He knew he was innocent, but he still couldn't shake the fear that he would be perceived otherwise. His palms were slick with sweat, and he wiped them surreptitiously on his trousers.

He felt the burning sensation of tears pricking his eyes. He willed them to stay, but the emotional strain was taking its toll. The need to defend himself, to speak the truth, was a driving force, but he felt trapped, unable to voice the words.