Gemotions

The crayon drawing of a lanky figure with mismatched limbs stared back at Leo from the kitchen table. He felt his chest tighten, a sudden pressure that made it hard to breathe. He grabbed the drawing from his niece, Maya, a force almost ripping the paper. “Maya, did you… did you draw this?” His voice was thin, reedy. He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it standing on end. He couldn't shake the feeling of something cold crawling up his spine.

Maya, wide-eyed, nodded. "It's Barnaby!" she chirped. Leo closed his eyes, then opened them again, slowly. He stared at the drawing. Barnaby. His childhood imaginary friend. A character long banished to the recesses of his memory. He needed to get out of the house, away from this… this thing.

He mumbled an excuse about needing to run an errand and practically fled the room. His car keys felt heavy in his trembling hand.