Gemotions

The realtor had described the house as "charming." Maya, however, felt a persistent knot in her stomach since the move-in. The house creaked constantly, whispers seemed to follow her, and now, the discovery of a secret room had her in a panic. She stood in the dusty attic, a small, hidden door revealed behind a stack of forgotten trunks. Her pulse hammered against her eardrums.

She pressed her palm to the cold wood. It was locked. She retreated to the landing, her breath coming in shallow gasps. She knew she should find the key, but the thought of returning to that hidden door filled her with a feeling that made her legs feel like jelly. She clutched her arms, trying to ward off the sensation of being watched.

Later, she returned with a crowbar. With each jarring sound of wood splintering, the panic intensified. Finally, the door yielded. She took a deep breath. She had to. She had to know. The dark interior seemed to beckon her forward.