Gemotions

The crayon strokes were vibrant, a riot of color across the thick paper. Amelia’s niece, Lily, was utterly engrossed in her art, humming a tuneless melody. Amelia knelt beside her, a polite smile plastered on her face, but the pleasantry felt tight. A figure emerged from the chaotic swirls: a lanky, green-skinned boy with oversized eyes. Amelia knew that boy. She hadn’t thought of him in decades.

Her breath hitched. She cleared her throat, "What’s this, Lily-bug?" Lily looked up, beaming. "It's Finn! He's my friend." Amelia forced a chuckle, her heart hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs. She felt a sudden, inexplicable chill, despite the warm afternoon sun streaming through the window.

She found herself checking the locks on the doors later that night, again, and again, unable to shake the feeling of being watched. Every creak of the house, every rustle of leaves outside her bedroom window, sent a jolt of alarm through her. The green boy was in her head, and she had no control over it.