Gemotions

The ceramic raven, perched on Ms. Davies' windowsill, was exquisitely crafted. A gift from Marcus, a boy with intense eyes and a penchant for drawing disturbing images. She’d tried to help him, but he'd just stared at her with a vacant smile. Now, the raven seemed to watch her, its obsidian eyes gleaming in the dim light. She found herself checking the locks on her doors again and again, each click a small, desperate act. The silence in her apartment was deafening, amplified by the drumming of her own pulse.