Gemotions

The familiar scent of lilac blossoms, usually a comfort, now felt cloying, oppressive. He stood there, legs rooted to the ground, staring. The classic station wagon, his father's hand-me-down, was gone. His vision blurred, and he blinked hard, trying to clear it.

His breath hitched in his throat. He felt the blood drain from his face, leaving him chilled to the bone. Every shadow in the yard seemed to deepen, to take on a sinister aspect. He felt a sudden, urgent need to retreat, to hide from the unseen threat that now loomed over him.