Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, mirroring the tempest brewing inside him. John stared out at the soaked lawn, the house looming around him like a silent, accusing giant. He had poured his heart and soul into this project, renovating this fixer-upper.

The discovery had arrived in a single, unsettling sentence. “The previous owner’s suicide occurred in the master bedroom.” His breath caught in his throat. He had envisioned happy memories, laughter, starting fresh.

Now, every creak of the floorboards, every shadow in the hall, sent a jolt of fear through him. He couldn’t sleep. He could barely breathe. The house wasn’t a home anymore; it was a mausoleum.