Gemotions

"Maybe next time," the coach said, his voice a drone. Anna didn't respond, her throat tight. She gripped her water bottle so tightly that her knuckles were white. The celebratory music blared from the speakers, the joyous melody piercing her like a thousand needles.

She watched the team huddle together, their excited chatter echoing in her ears. Each smile, each high-five, felt like a deliberate act of cruelty. Her vision blurred, and the world began to tilt.

She made her way to the locker room, her footsteps heavy, the path feeling endless. She wanted to be invisible, to disappear into the shadows. The familiar scent of sweat and liniment felt nauseating. The disappointment was a physical ache.