Gemotions

She slammed the door, the flimsy lock a paltry defense against the unseen threat she now perceived lurking just beyond. The notice was a declaration of war, a sign of their intent to take everything. Her breathing was shallow, rapid, as she paced the length of her living room, her mind a frantic, untamed thing.

Her gaze darted from window to window, her reflection in the glass a stranger staring back at her. The sunlight seemed too bright, too revealing. The shadows in the corners of the room deepened, twisting into menacing shapes. She unplugged her phone, the silence amplifying the thrumming in her ears.

A siren wailed in the distance. Her breath hitched. They were coming for her. She had to be ready. She grabbed the metal bat from behind the door, its familiar weight a small comfort. She hid behind the couch, listening intently, certain that the slightest noise meant they had arrived.