Gemotions

The ringing phone jolted me awake. "Hello?" I croaked into the receiver. A distorted voice on the other end, barely audible, complained about the late-night karaoke sessions. I don’t own a karaoke machine. Or, at least, I didn't.

I slammed the phone down. My gaze flickered to the window, the blinds casting stripes of shadow across my face. I had a pounding headache. My neighbor, Mrs. Petrov, had seemed friendly enough, offering me cookies last week. Now...this.

I rose slowly, feeling a cold dread seep through me. I moved to the front door, unlocked it and looked outside. The street was quiet, the houses serene. But the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, prickling with an unfamiliar tension.