Gemotions

"Well, alright," she'd responded, the words feeling thin and inadequate. Now, hours later, the words repeated in her head, twisted with an undercurrent of panic. The idea of losing the cherry tree to Mr. Olsen's whim sent a chill through her.

She sat on the edge of her bed, her legs dangling, her mind a whirlwind of what-ifs. She imagined the silence, the lack of birdsong. The thought of that beautiful blossom-filled spectacle, gone, filled her with a sense of dread, a tightening in her chest that made breathing difficult.

She pictured the empty space, a void where beauty had once thrived. She felt a compulsion to do something, anything, to stop this from happening. A tremor of resolve, mixed with fear, coursed through her.