Gemotions

The attic was stifling, the heat pressing in on her as she carefully navigated the cluttered space. She'd told her husband she'd be back down in half an hour. She wanted to be thorough, but now, she found herself paralyzed, rooted to the spot.

A child's rocking horse, its paint chipped and faded, stared out from the gloom. Its lifeless eyes seemed to follow her every move. She took a step back, her stomach churning. She felt sick, really sick.

She'd thought she was buying a house, not a history. She felt a prickling sensation at the back of her neck, as though she were being watched. She had to get out, now.