Gemotions

The attic felt like a tomb, each object a forgotten fragment of a life now lost to time. She stumbled into the space, her chest heaving. A doll lay on the floor, its glass eyes staring up at the low beams. A giggle escaped her lips, a high-pitched sound she barely recognized as her own.

A music box sat on a shelf. She reached for it, her fingers brushing against the cold, smooth wood. The melody played, a haunting tune.

She felt lightheaded. The air was thin, carrying the scent of dust and something else, something…floral. She backed away, bumping into a stack of old books. Images flashed before her eyes. Faces, places, whispers. She wanted to scream.