Gemotions

The musty air hit Amelia like a physical blow as she pushed the front door open. Dust motes danced in the slivers of sunlight that pierced the gloom. She hadn't been inside since Grandma Elsie's funeral, and even then, the house had felt different, somehow more… oppressive. Her brother, Leo, wandered in behind her, whistling off-key, completely unbothered. Amelia swallowed, the taste of ash suddenly coating her tongue.

She forced herself to take a step, then another, each one echoing in the silent hallway. Cobwebs clung to the ornate, chipped molding. A chill, unrelated to the outside temperature, prickled her skin. Leo stopped, pointing a carefree finger at a portrait of their grandmother. "Remember this dress?" he asked, oblivious to the way Amelia's stomach had just lurched.

Amelia’s gaze darted to the painting, then back to the darkened hallway. She found herself backing away, the painted eyes of her grandmother seeming to follow her every move. "Let's… let's just get this over with," she managed, her voice a thin, shaky thread. The thought of sorting through the contents of this house, this mausoleum of memories, was almost too much.