Gemotions

John felt the floorboards creak under his weight as he paced his sister’s living room. He’d seen the drawing – the lanky, unsettling form with eyes like black buttons – and felt a cold dread settle in his stomach. He’d buried him, years ago, or thought he had. This couldn't be happening.

His sister, Sarah, walked in, a concerned expression on her face. “John, are you alright? You look…pale.” He managed a weak smile. “Just tired.”

He needed to talk to someone, needed to unravel this, but the words felt trapped in his throat, a thick, suffocating knot. He glanced back at the drawing, a fresh wave of unease washing over him. The image seemed to leer at him.