Gemotions

The crayon lines were crude, a childish rendition of a lanky figure with mismatched limbs and a perpetually grinning face. Sarah stared at the drawing, propped on the kitchen counter amidst the scattered remnants of a birthday party. It was one of her niece Lily’s, a collection of happy scribbles and vibrant colors. But this one... it gave her a chill. She knew that figure. The unsettling smile. The way the eyes seemed to bulge. It was her childhood friend, Barnaby, the one she'd sworn didn’t exist anymore. She ran a hand over her forehead, suddenly feeling a bead of sweat trickle down her temple.

Her own memories of Barnaby were hazy. Fragments of whispered secrets in the dark, games played in the attic, a presence that felt both comforting and slightly off. She hadn't thought about him in years, but now… now he was resurfacing in Lily’s art. A cold knot formed in her stomach as she imagined the things Lily might be telling him.

“Did you see the new drawing, Aunt Sarah?” Lily skipped in, clutching another page. Sarah forced a smile. The air seemed thin, making it hard to breathe.