"As the world moved on I stood frozen, broken, and shattered. My world would never be the same..."

As the next day went by, Branch became anxious. What if this plan Peppy had constructed didn't work out? After all, there was only one day left until Trollstice and everyone was getting tired from all the hard work.

He was sitting just outside his pod, his hands held in his lap and his legs crisscrossed. The young blue Troll watched everyone as the bustled through the clearing with equipment held in their hands. He desperately wanted to help, but King Peppy had demanded all kids stay away from the work. He didn't want to risk hurting any of them in the process.

Branch felt a flash of frustration. His father had taught him how to be strong and had given him basic survival lessons. He could help! But still, he knew better than to argue with the King. So he made the thought drift to the back of his mind.

"Branch, dear, why have you been out here for so long?" his grandma asked as she approached him, stepping out of their pod. Her blue-green eyes were round with concern. "Come inside. I don't want you accidentally hurting yourself. These Trolls are carrying sharp objects."

Branch looked up at her. "I'll be fine," he insisted, lifting his head and perking up his pointy blue ears. "No one's gonna come over here and hurt me, Grandma."

"I didn't ask you if you wanted to come inside Branch. That was an order. I'm practically your mother now. I said come in!" She was sounding a little anxious now.

Branch gave in, knowing better than to argue. He rose to his feet, stretching himself, and turning towards their home. It was afternoon now, the sun shining high in the summer sky and bathing the village in a pretty golden light. Everything appeared so peaceful, but lurking right outside their home were Troll-hungry monsters.

The boy followed his grandmother inside, holding her hand somewhat tight. Every Trollstice after his parents' death memories always struck up inside his brain, giving him panic attacks and causing his heart to hammer wildly in his chest. He halted, slipping his hand from his grandma's and staring at the floor.

"What's wrong?" the old purple Troll asked, moving closer to him.

"It's happening again, Grandma," he choked out, his voice rather hoarse with emotion and sorrow. He gripped his knees with his hands as he crouched down, his sides heaving and a strange black cloud swirling at the edges of his vision.

He felt the warmth of the purple female's body against his and her arm draping around his shoulders. "Branch, it's okay!" she muttered, scooping him up and holding him tightly against her chest, kissing and nuzzling his forehead affectionately as she attempted to calm him. Branch relaxed against her, her reassuring kisses and hugs telling him that everything really was okay.

Branch stared up at his grandmother, the one Troll he could always rely on to keep him safe and happy. He was fearing for her life, scared it would be ripped away from him just as his parents' lives had been. He didn't want to think about that, though. It was just too much for his already-traumatized brain to handle. His grandma would live, he was sure of it. She wouldn't be dying any time soon. He would have her next to him all through the rest of his childhood and probably most of his adulthood. Everything would be just fine. He was overreacting. Sure, he had a good reason to, but he knew everything would be perfect. "Thank you, Grandma," he muttered, rising himself up on his toes and pressing his face to hers.

"Don't thank me," she chuckled. "Oh, you know what? I have some laundry I need to dry and pack up before we leave this place. It's hanging out on one of the tree branches. Why don't you come with me? Perhaps that'll take your mind off tomorrow."

Branch brightened up at her words. "Of course!" he cheered happily. "Let's go!"

The two Trolls left their pod, stepping out into the still-busy village. The other Trolls' voices crowded the young boy's ears but he ignored them. They were just making preparations for tomorrow and he could not complain about that.

Suddenly, a red color caught his attention out of his peripheral vision. He turned his head, spotting a rose close by. "Wow, Grandma, look! It's so pretty!"

The old purple Troll followed his gaze towards the prickly-stemmed flower. "Ah, a rose. One of my favorites."

"But your actual favorites are irises, right?" Branch checked.

His grandma nodded in confirmation, smiling widely at him.

"Knew it!" he giggled, walking towards the rose and carefully plucking it from the ground. One of the thorns grazed his finger but he ignored it. It was just a small sting and had not broken the skin so he was fine. "Alright, let's go!"

Branch and his grandma had reached one of the many limbs of Troll Tree finally, where all the drying clothes were hanging, the wind gently blowing against them and swaying them.

"Well, here we are," the old purple female said with a sigh as she approached the laundry.

"Grandma," Branch muttered, glancing down at the rose in his hands.

"Yes, Branch?" The female began plucking the clothes from where they hung, holding them and setting them in sections according to what they were.

"I wanna sing! It's been a while. Let's have one more song here before its time to leave," the little blue boy explained. "What song should I do?"

The old female looked at him, a thinking expression filling her countenance. "Hmm...let me think," she told him. "Oh, I know! How about Total Eclipse of the Heart? I haven't heard that one in forever. And with your angel-like voice, I know you'll be able to give me a beautiful performance."

Branch smiled, moving the rose towards his face and closing his eyes. He had heart Total Eclipse of the Heart a few times before and knew the lyrics like he knew his own hair. He opened his mouth, letting the first line of the song spill out in his beautiful, stunning singing octave:

"Turnaround, every now and then I get a little bit lonely..."