Gemotions

A persistent fog clung to Emily's brain, making her movements slow and deliberate. She’d been up since dawn. It was the only way to escape the constant thoughts. She forced herself to walk, each footfall a monumental effort, toward the place she'd planted the birch. A simple, silver birch.

The area was empty. A great gaping hole gaped back at her. Her breath hitched. A profound stillness settled over her. The sound of birds chirping seemed miles away.

She felt a strange disconnect from her body, as if she were observing herself from a great distance. Her vision began to waver, and the world seemed to dim around the edges. She slumped against a nearby lamppost, the cold metal against her cheek. She just wanted to… rest. To… be.