Gemotions

"You shouldn't have come," her sister's voice, scratchy through the phone, had been the only other voice he heard all day. He had ignored it. Now, Leo stared at the crumbling porch, his hands jammed deep in his pockets. The wind whistled through the empty window frames, a mournful song. He hated the sound.

He felt the tremors in his leg begin. The last time he felt this way, he had retreated into his room and stayed there for days. There was nothing and no one here for him to talk to. He glanced around at the debris, the torn-up flowerbeds, the broken toys. Where was everyone now?

He dug his nails into his palms. A dull ache spread through his chest, a constant reminder of what he had lost.