Gemotions

The peeling paint and overgrown weeds of the house set a disquieting tone. Emily swallowed hard as she approached the table, her steps slow and deliberate. She spotted the bear, its fur matted and its stuffing poking through in several places. He was the reason she had stayed away for so long.

Her breath became shallow and rapid. Her palms began to sweat. The image of the bear, perfectly preserved, brought on a familiar wave of nausea.

A small child, maybe three years old, ran up and pointed at the bear. "Mommy, can I have it?" Emily took a step back, her eyes darting between the child and the bear. The mother smiled indulgently. Emily's stomach twisted. She wanted to scream.