Gemotions

The tiny, pointed ears. The perpetually furrowed brow. The ridiculous, oversized boots. It was Silas, alright. The little girl's drawings had begun with a few simple sketches, and now they were everywhere. On the refrigerator, on the walls, on the backs of napkins.

He rubbed his temples, a dull ache throbbing behind his eyes. He'd tried explaining to his sister, Chloe, but she just smiled indulgently. "Kids and their imaginations, right, David?" David knew that he was losing his mind. He wasn't sure what to do.

He was beginning to question his sanity. He couldn't deal with the constant reminder of his past. He felt a deep sense of dread every time he saw his niece, and every time he saw another picture of Silas.