Gemotions

The old house loomed before her, a symbol of everything she’d tried to escape. She found herself standing on the porch, paralyzed. The front door creaked open, and her father, his face etched with concern, emerged. She felt her hands growing clammy.

He gestured inside, his voice soft, "Come in, dear. We've missed you." The warmth in his tone felt like a threat.

She took a step, then another, the floorboards groaning under her feet. Each room, each object, evoked a memory, a feeling she'd worked so hard to bury. She felt a wave of claustrophobia washing over her.