Gemotions

The morning had started the same way as all the others in the past month. Amelia hadn't gotten out of bed before noon, barely touched her breakfast. She felt like she was wading through molasses, every movement an effort.

A delivery arrived, a thick envelope. It contained a detailed report about her new house. A gruesome murder, a botched investigation, and a web of hidden secrets. The article described the violent death, and all of the details were laid out in her kitchen.

She closed her eyes, trying to block out the images, but they were already seared into her mind. The kitchen, once her favorite room in the house, now felt tainted, poisoned. She felt a cold sweat break out across her skin. The cheerful wallpaper seemed to mock her. The house, once a symbol of new beginnings, now felt like a prison.