Gemotions

The house loomed before me, a silent testament to a life lived. My brother, Noah, was already walking through the rooms, talking about demolishing the back porch. I said nothing. The thought of change, of altering anything she had touched, felt like a betrayal.

I walked through the garden, the roses now overgrown and neglected. The beauty of the flowers served only to amplify the feeling of emptiness inside me. I knelt, picking a single wilting rose.

I held it in my hand, the petals soft and fragile. The beauty of the world felt distant, a world I could no longer find joy in. The weight in my chest was crushing me, and I felt as though I was drowning in a sea of sorrow.