Gemotions

The car screeched to a halt, gravel spitting from under the tires. A cold dread seeped into Amelia’s bones as she stared. Where the oak had stood, her tree, a ragged stump remained. Her hands flew to her mouth, fingers digging into her lip. A low moan escaped her, a sound of utter despair. She stumbled out, legs feeling like lead.

She ran towards the vacant space, tears blurring her vision. The air felt thick, suffocating. Someone had taken it, stolen a piece of her childhood. Her breath hitched, ragged and uneven. She circled the stump, a desperate search for any sign, a shred of hope. There was none.

"No," she whispered, the sound lost to the wind. She knelt, her fingers tracing the rough wood. It was real. It was gone. Her chest clenched, squeezing the air from her lungs. She felt as though she could not breathe.