Gemotions

The doctor's words echoed in Clara's head: "Below average". She gripped the edges of her desk, her knuckles bone-white. She’d always been a high achiever, the teacher's pet, the first to volunteer. Now, the validation she so deeply craved, was gone. A cold sweat prickled her skin.

She avoided eye contact with her classmates, her cheeks burning. The classroom seemed to shrink, the walls closing in. The air felt thick, difficult to breathe. She wanted to scream, to shatter the illusion of competence she had meticulously crafted. Instead, she just sat there, frozen.