Gemotions

"Hello?" I called out, my voice barely a whisper. The old house seemed to absorb sound, leaving an unsettling stillness in its wake. This inheritance was a mistake.

I turned the key, and then locked the door. Then I checked it again. I found myself staring at the mail slot in the door for an uncomfortable length of time, even though I knew no one could possibly be there.

My skin prickled with unease. I went from room to room, touching the walls. I kept flinching at every small sound – the wind, the settling of the house. I had the feeling of being under surveillance.

I refused to unpack. Every object, every piece of furniture, felt tainted, like it had been watched. I ended up staying in one room. It felt safe, but I knew it wasn't.