Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the dean's office hummed, a relentless drone that mirrored the thrumming in Elias's temples. He ran a hand through his already dishevelled hair, the action a futile attempt to calm the storm raging inside him. The accusations hung heavy in the air, a suffocating blanket woven from his own words and someone else's. He could feel his heart hammering against his ribs, a frantic bird seeking escape.

"I... I don't understand," he stammered, his voice thin and reedy. The words felt foreign, detached from the swirling vortex of panic in his gut. He stared at the polished mahogany table, reflecting the rigid posture of the woman across from him, the image making him want to shrink further into himself.

The door, usually a simple portal, now represented an insurmountable barrier. He felt as though the very air around him was thickening, each breath an effort. He was caught in a current, unable to find an anchor.