Gemotions

The attic was stifling, the air thick with dust. Rebecca squinted, trying to make out the shapes in the dim light. She found a collection of old, handmade dolls, their faces expressionless.

She picked up a doll, its porcelain skin cold and smooth. Its eyes seemed to follow her. She put it down, and saw a child’s rocking horse, still balanced on its rockers.

The room, the dolls, the rocking horse… they all seemed to be watching her. The silence was deafening. She felt a disquieting sensation, a sense of… something wrong.