Gemotions

"Show Uncle Thomas your drawing, Lily!" The words grated on Thomas. He'd tried to be friendly, but he was finding it difficult. The drawings, the incessant mention of "Leo," the way his sister and brother-in-law seemed to delight in it all. It was a pressure he could barely manage.

He focused on the table, on the dust motes dancing in the sunlight, anywhere but the image. It had already come to his attention, with that awful, familiar face. Now, it was here again, a grotesque rendition of Leo playing hide-and-seek.

He swallowed hard, and forced a smile, but felt the muscles in his face were stiff. "Very… imaginative," he muttered, trying to keep his voice steady. He wanted to grab the drawing and stamp on it, to shred it to pieces and scream until his throat bled.

Instead, he excused himself. He needed to get away, to walk, to be alone, to deal with the rising sickness inside of him.