Gemotions

Sarah clutched her coffee, the ceramic warmed against her trembling hands. The latest drawing from her niece, Lily, lay spread on the kitchen table. It depicted a grinning figure with mismatched buttons for eyes, perched on a branch of a weeping willow. It was the same figure that had haunted Sarah's own childhood, a figment named Mr. Snuggleworth. Her breath hitched. The air in the room suddenly felt thick, heavy. She felt a prickling sensation crawl across her skin.

She quickly shoved the drawing away. "Lily, honey, that's… that's a lovely tree." She tried to make her voice sound normal, light, but it cracked slightly. Lily, oblivious, skipped closer, eyes bright.

"He's watching me, Aunt Sarah," the little girl said, her voice laced with the naive innocence that made the situation all the more disturbing. Sarah wanted to run, to hide, to do anything other than stand there, feeling the invisible gaze of Mr. Snuggleworth following her, waiting.