Gemotions

“I can fix it,” Eliza muttered, her voice barely audible above the whirring of the sewing machine. Yesterday, Leo, the boy she’d traded friendship bracelets with, had no memory of her. The bracelets they created, that bound them together, were now in the back of a drawer. Tears pricked her eyes as she ripped apart the seams of a failed dress, the vibrant threads scattered across the table. But the destruction only spurred her on. She pulled out a new fabric, a bold, defiant crimson. A new creation, a new challenge, a way to stitch the torn past back together.