Gemotions

The antique music box sat heavy in my hands. I almost dropped it. It wasn’t what I was expecting. My sister, Amelia, had inherited their parents’ restaurant. A thriving business. I was given this thing.

The lawyer had said it held an untold power. Power to what? To hurt me? The melody it played was strangely discordant, each note a subtle echo of a lurking threat. I felt the sweat prickling on my neck, and it itched.

Amelia’s eyes flicked over to me, full of pity. I knew she felt it was a cruel joke. I wished she’d take it away from me. I wanted to be free. The intricate carvings on the box seemed to writhe and shift in my periphery.