Gemotions

The shadows in the hallway seemed to lengthen, to twist, as Mark stood staring at the drawing tacked to the refrigerator. It was undeniably him. The crooked smile. The unnerving eyes. The way he seemed to be…watching. He felt a sudden, desperate urge to flee, to put as much distance as possible between himself and the image.

He needed to get out, he thought wildly.

He stumbled back, bumping into the counter. He needed to get away from here, away from this house. He pulled his jacket on, not bothering to check if his keys were in his pocket. He just needed to be away. He bolted out the front door, slamming it behind him.