Gemotions

The silence in the attic was oppressive. He clutched the faded photograph – him, at six years old, laughing with the blurry figure beside him. He should have destroyed it long ago. He remembered their games, their secrets, the unspoken pact they'd made.

Now, his nephew, Leo, was drawing *him* again. The image, scrawled in crayon, was hauntingly familiar. He found the drawings hidden in Leo's bedroom. He felt the blood drain from his face as he remembered.

He had to get rid of them. He had to do something.