Gemotions

The demolition crew’s truck idled outside, its engine a low growl that vibrated in Amelia's chest. She stood at the living room window, knuckles white against the sill. The air tasted sharp, metallic, even though the sun shone brightly. Every shadow seemed to lengthen, every sound to magnify. She ran a hand over the worn wallpaper, tracing the faded floral pattern. A sudden shudder went through her, a tremor in her very bones. "Don’t you dare," she breathed, though there was no one to hear but the ghosts of her childhood.