Gemotions

The car door slammed with a resounding thud. Emily stared, her mouth agape. Her childhood oak tree, the one that had sheltered her from the sun, the one where she had carved her initials, was gone. A knot of fury tightened in her stomach.

She marched over to the stump, running her hand roughly over the freshly cut wood. She clenched her jaw. Her mind raced, replaying scenes from her past. The laughter, the secrets, the countless hours spent in its branches. Now, just this.

She wanted to tear her hair out, to scream until her voice was raw. But she couldn't. She just stood there, a statue of disbelief and barely contained rage. She felt a burning need to confront whoever was responsible. But the reality of the situation washed over her like a tidal wave of frustration.