Gemotions

Rain hammered against the windows, mimicking the frantic drumming in Maya's chest. She stood at the edge of the overgrown lawn, the skeletal remains of the swing set creaking mournfully in the wind. The house, her childhood house, was a silhouette against the stormy sky, soon to be nothing but dust and rubble. A hot, stinging sensation burned behind her eyes, and she blinked rapidly, willing the moisture away. Each raindrop seemed to represent a memory – the scent of freshly baked cookies, the echo of laughter in the hallways, the soft glow of her nightlight casting shadows on her bedroom walls. They were all dissolving with the house.