Gemotions

It was in the details, the little things, that the unease settled in. A cold draft that seemed to originate from nowhere. The lingering scent of something metallic, even after cleaning. The feeling of being watched, especially in the dark. She would wake up during the night.

She’d started spending her days outside, sitting in the backyard, even in the cold. She would sit there for hours, staring at the house. She couldn't stay inside. She couldn't sleep inside.

The house loomed over her, a dark and silent sentinel, a constant reminder of the tragedy within. She was losing herself.