Gemotions

The familiar scent of pine needles used to greet her as she walked along the path. Now, the air hung heavy with the metallic tang of fresh sawdust. Amelia stopped dead in her tracks, her hand flying to her throat as if to quell a sudden physical pain.

The world seemed to tilt. The vibrant colours of the forest blurred, becoming a muted, indistinct wash. She felt a cold sweat break out on her forehead.

Her vision tunneled, the edges of her sight fading. She swayed, grabbing at a nearby birch tree for support. "No," she whispered, the word barely audible.