Gemotions

"Mommy said you're feeling… funny," Maya's little brother mumbled. Maya ignored him. The drawing lay on the coffee table, a grotesque caricature of her imaginary friend, “Grimble.” Grimble, with his jagged teeth and perpetually furrowed brow, was now recreated in bright colours in her niece, Emily’s drawings. She hadn't seen him in decades, yet there he was, resurrected in crayon.

She paced the length of the living room, hands clenching and unclenching. It was just a child's imagination. That’s all. But the feeling of icy dread, like something unseen, pressing against her from all sides, wouldn't leave. Her shoulders felt tight, as if ready to pull up and hug her ears.

“I’m fine,” she said, her voice a forced, wavering whisper. She forced a smile, but it felt wooden and unnatural on her face.