Gemotions

The telephone rang, its shrill sound splitting the quiet of the afternoon. It was her sister. "You have to come see this." She hung up, feeling a tremor run through her. The paintings! Again. She felt a familiar hollowness in her chest. She had buried her imaginary friend, "Pip", in the recesses of her mind, a mischievous sprite with a penchant for mischief. But now, Pip was back, a spectral presence in her nephew’s drawings. She drove over, the journey punctuated by nervous breaths, the world appearing to lose its color.

Her sister showed her the new drawing, Pip, but this time, he looked angry. The drawing hung above the fireplace. The room seemed cold.

“He's not real, is he?" she stammered, her voice barely a whisper. Her sister just stared, as if unsure.