Gemotions

The saw screamed, a metallic shriek that echoed in Amelia’s ears long after the last vibration died. She stared at the stump, the raw wood a festering wound in the manicured lawn. Her fists clenched so tight her nails bit into her palms. That tree. She'd been eight when she planted it, a tiny sapling she'd watered religiously. Now, just a few feet of nothing.

She kicked at a stray twig. It skittered away, insignificant. The world suddenly felt small, and suffocating. Why? Why would they do this? She stalked towards the house, the sun a mocking spotlight on her back.

Inside, she slammed the door, the sound a defiant roar in the silence. She needed something to break, something to shatter the tight knot in her chest.