Gemotions

The house smelled of mothballs and something else, something indefinable, like time itself. Emily hesitated at the doorway, her hand hovering over the chipped paint of the frame. Her brother, Ben, was already inside, whistling a jaunty tune as he inspected the ancient water heater. She swallowed hard, feeling a knot tighten in her stomach. It was like stepping into a dream, or perhaps a nightmare. Every shadow seemed to hold a secret, every creak of the floorboards a whispered warning. She took a step, then another, the floorboards groaning under her weight.