Gemotions

"It's just a house, Sarah," Mark had said, trying to reassure her. He didn’t understand. She saw it differently. Now, Sarah couldn't stand to be in the garden, where the police had found the evidence. She felt a phantom weight on her shoulders, the imagined burden of what had happened here. She stopped watering the roses, allowing them to wither and die, a silent, mirroring gesture to her own state of mind. She found herself drawn to the basement, a dark and damp space, filled with unsettling shadows and forgotten things. The only light in her days came from the television, and even there, she mostly watched true crime documentaries.