Gemotions

"Mommy, can Finny come out to play?" Maya, four, held up a drawing. The depiction of the creature was too familiar, a tall, spindly figure with an unsettlingly large head and eyes. A memory, long buried, surfaced with surprising force, a wave of nausea. Daniel, Maya’s father, stared at the drawing, his mouth dry.

He gripped the edge of the kitchen counter, needing to steady himself. His heart hammered against his ribs. The ordinary kitchen, usually a space of comfort, felt alien and threatening. The image was all too similar to the figure who had been his companion for so long in childhood. The figure that only he could see.

"Finny? Who is Finny, sweetheart?" Daniel asked, his voice strained. He felt a sudden, inexplicable need to leave the room.