Gemotions

The rain lashed against the windows of the old Victorian house, mirroring the storm raging inside me. We had been children, playing hide-and-seek. The attic, a forbidden realm of dust and shadows, had become my hiding place.

"You remember the doll, don't you?" Liam asked, his voice low, his eyes fixed on some unseen point in the room. He seemed to shrink inwards. I said nothing. The doll. I thought I'd buried that memory deep within me.

I could feel a cold sweat slicking my palms. The silence stretched, taut and agonizing. His question had resurrected the awful sensation, the way my heart had thumped as I saw the doll. It was not a doll, I realized, but the beginning of something.