Gemotions

The stairs groaned under her weight as she ascended. The attic door was always ajar, like a watchful eye. A chill ran down her spine, despite the heat of the day. She had to do this, she told herself. The previous owners, bless their hearts, had left a mess.

She wasn’t normally a person who spooked easily, but this house… it just felt different. She felt a vague sense of dread, a knot tightening in her chest. She reached for the light switch and flicked it. The bare bulb barely illuminated the space.

She noticed a stack of journals, bound in worn leather, tucked away in the shadows. She knew she shouldn’t, but she felt compelled to look at them. As she reached for the top one, a sudden gust of wind slammed the attic door shut.