Gemotions

The old house felt different tonight. The air was heavy, the shadows long and distorted. She forced a smile as she sat on the worn couch, trying to engage in casual conversation with her brother and his family, but her focus was elsewhere.

Her niece, little Sophie, was busily coloring, and the subject of her current work was making her feel utterly displaced. The drawing, a crude depiction of a tall, thin figure with a smile that showed too many teeth, filled her with a profound disquiet.

She shifted in place, her legs feeling like lead weights. She could feel her pulse racing in her temples. The figure. It looked just like her imaginary friend from childhood. The one she had dubbed "Silas." She took a deep, involuntary breath, striving for composure.