Gemotions

The coffee was cold and bitter, much like Clara’s mood. She threw the newspaper down, the rustling sound amplifying the silence in the apartment. Again, there it was. In the drawing her cousin's daughter, Sophie, had done of the family. A shadowy, elongated figure with oddly placed eyes. A replica of the creature she'd spent years avoiding.

Clara got up from the table, pacing back and forth. She felt a surge of… something akin to panic. How? Why? She’d buried that part of her life. The memory of the endless games, the whispers, the feeling of being watched was a closed book. She slammed her fist on the kitchen counter.

She needed to understand. She needed to know what this meant, and how to make it *stop*. The air felt thick, heavy, as though the walls were closing in. Her hands felt clammy. She needed to do something, anything, to break the feeling of powerlessness.