Gemotions

"I... I can't," Maria choked out, her voice barely above a whisper. Her husband, trying to console her, just looked confused. She backed away from the dining room table, her eyes darting around the room, which suddenly seemed alien and threatening. The details, printed in a tiny article that she had painstakingly translated, had painted a horrific picture of what had happened in her house. She couldn't stop seeing the images, the bloodstains, the look of terror in the victim's eyes. She clutched at her chest, gasping for air. Her beautiful, sunny kitchen felt like a tomb.