Gemotions

The antique chandelier swayed gently, casting long, distorted shadows across the dining room. Sarah, her jaw clenched tight, watched the flickering light dance across the ceiling. The police report, detailing the gruesome discovery, had transformed her dream home into a haunted house.

She reached for a crystal glass, her fingers trembling. She hurled it across the room. The sound of shattering glass was briefly satisfying, a small act of defiance. The pristine walls, now marred with flecks of glass, seemed to mock her.

She stalked through the house, each room a testament to someone else's misfortune. She felt an overwhelming urge to damage, to defile. The previous owners, their story so tragic, had robbed her of peace.

The thought of them, their life, their death in HER house. It made her want to scream until her lungs burst.