Gemotions

The chipped paint on the walls seemed to sneer. Clara had always hated this house; she was trapped, the house was a prison. This new discovery, this hidden room, felt like another manifestation of her dread. Her stomach churned. She paced the living room, the wood floors cool beneath her bare feet.

She'd been trying to replace a faulty outlet, and the wall panel, behind the outlet box, gave way, revealing a doorway. Inside, a room filled with shadows, musty air, and a faint scent of old perfume. She wanted to scream, to run, to smash everything to pieces.

She pressed her palm to her mouth, stifling a sob. The need to escape this suffocating place washed over her. She knew she shouldn’t go in, but she couldn’t stop herself from reaching for the door handle.