Gemotions

He was cataloging items from the local historical society when he came across it – a time capsule, recovered from the foundations of a demolished school. He examined it with professional detachment, until he recognized the name on the lid: his own.

He slowly opened the lid, his hands shaking slightly. Inside lay mementos from his childhood: a crayon drawing, a dried flower, and a small, leather-bound book. He stared at the drawing. It depicted a smiling family, a house he never knew. The book, when he opened it, was a journal filled with entries in a hand he did not recognize.

His breath caught in his throat. He felt a cold dread begin to seep through him. He closed the lid, his heart hammering against his ribs. He had to leave. He had to get away from these things, from this life that wasn't his. He spun around, pushing past the other volunteers, and fled.