Gemotions

The crayon slipped in Amelia’s grip, leaving a purple smudge on the drawing of a smiling cat. That *thing* was back. Leo. It was Leo. Amelia’s niece, Lily, beamed at her, holding up the picture. “Look, Auntie! Leo’s helping the kitty find its food!” Amelia forced a smile. Her jaw clenched. Years she’d spent burying the memory, the shame. Now, it was prancing about in a child’s crayon world, a skinny, grinning imp with mismatched eyes.

Amelia grabbed the drawing, her fingers digging into the paper. “That’s… nice.” she said, her voice tight. “Let’s get you a snack, shall we?” Lily skipped away, oblivious. Amelia crumpled the picture in her fist, her knuckles white. She tossed it in the bin, then slammed the lid shut, as if trying to trap the painted spectre.

The urge to rip every drawing Lily made, to banish that… presence… from the house, was a physical pressure in her chest. She needed air. Needed to scream.