Gemotions

Liam stared at the sketchpad in his hands. He'd found it in his brother's attic, a place he'd vowed never to revisit. The smell of dust and forgotten things choked him. In the center of a page, a crude drawing of a boy with mismatched eyes, one blue and one green, danced with Liam’s nephew. The boy's features were childish, yet the expression felt…knowing.

His hands began to tremble. He dropped the book, the thud echoing in the silence. Images, fragments of a forgotten past, assaulted him - the echoing laughter, the whispered secrets, the terror that had held him in its grip as a child. He felt a phantom weight on his chest, a constriction that made it difficult to breathe.

He had to get out, he needed air. He stumbled out of the attic, the sketchpad forgotten. He had to remind himself that it was just a drawing, it was nothing. He locked himself in his car, the interior stifling, and slammed his fists on the steering wheel.