Gemotions

The coach's smile felt forced. "This new strategy means you're moving to goalie, Maya." Maya nodded stiffly, her face a mask. She had poured her heart into being a striker, scoring goals, the thrill of victory. Now she was being confined to the net, a passive observer in the field.

Her stomach churned. She looked at her teammates, feeling a growing divide. They, still free, moving as they always had. She, bound by posts and the constraints of the game. Her legs felt heavy, as if the very air was slowing her down.

The whistle blew, signaling the start of the game. She walked towards the goal, each step feeling like an unwanted obligation. The green field, once a canvas for her creativity, now seemed like a wall.