Hi so I took some of the advice given and revised the story so here goes
The tree stood, resolute. Pink and white polka dot bedsheet stretched out as far as the eye could see. Peacefully, light streamed through a plethora of light pink petals. Bubblegum flowers clung tightly to the branches. Eventually, in the subtle sway of the great tree, petals shook off and traced their way down setting down softly into the Snow’s embrace. A few petals landed softly on Sakura’s shoulders, nestling into the fabric of her wool coat.
Sakura released a soft breath into the sweet winter air, leaning back on the bench. Shuddering, the time-worn bench threatened to give way. Her face was equally bitten by winter, and worn by the events of the day. She had gotten into another fight with her mother, it was about her brother again. Sakura’s fawn eyes, settled upon the tree in much the same way a mouse would look at a skyscraper, full of wonder and worry. Sakura’s inky hair was at the wind’s mercy, blown about like a boat on the high seas.
Her mouth upturned slightly at the thought of a joke she had once been told. In her memory, her laugh flowed like silk through the air, her brother had just told her what she thought–at the time–was the funniest thing she had ever heard. At the thought of her brother, she frowned. “Wonder what he’s doing, probably living it up in his fancy villa by the beach,” she said aloud, letting her head rest on the bench. She shook her head as if that would get the thought out. She hadn’t seen him in years. She couldn’t see him, he made sure of that.
“Even if her father had made sure they didn’t contact each other, with his influence and power, surely her brother would try.” She thought, solemnly. Sakura closed her eyes, listening to the harmonic song of the birds interrupting the blissful silence. She relished in the music and drummed her nimble fingers on the side of the bench. “Maybe he doesn’t want to…” Sakura thought as she felt herself slip into slumber.
A dream filled her head–well it was more of a memory than a dream. She saw the face of her mother, smiling down at a 6-year-old Sakura. “Can I put the decorations on the tree, Mama?” she asked, her little voice trembling with excitement. “Of course, sweetheart,” her mother answered, hoisting Sakura onto her shoulders. The memory fades with the faint smell of her mother’s cooking finding its way to her.
Hours later, a squirrel scampered up the side of the tree and disappeared into the lush foliage. Pink confetti continued to float down from the tree, Sakura was buried under a thin coating of snow and petals. Bees darted in and out of the flowers of the magnificent tree, picking up pollen in their heavy saddlebags.
As the snow began to fall again, Sakura rose from the bench, wiping her eyes. Petals and snow fell to the ground around her boots. It doesn’t matter if he doesn’t want to see me, she had her own life with her mother; I am happy, she decided. Pulling up her hood, she wandered away, heading home with the promise of the warm meal awaiting her.
Sakura stood, pushing her hair back behind her ear, infront of her door. “Hello?” Sakura said, sheepishly as she opened the door. Her mother, who was standing in the walkway, smiled and said “Hi, sweetheart.”
