Gemotions

The low hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen grated on Amelia’s nerves. She kept adjusting the thermostat, even though the temperature was perfectly fine. Her brother, Daniel, was upstairs, presumably sorting through their grandmother’s clothes. The thought of him touching those things, breathing in the scent of mothballs and old perfume, made her skin crawl.

She found herself checking the locks on the doors repeatedly, even though they'd just been installed. Outside, the wind howled through the skeletal branches of the oak tree in the front yard, sounding like a mournful sigh. The house creaked and groaned in response, a symphony of unsettling sounds. She walked through the hall, checking each room to make sure the windows were closed, even though the weather forecast was clear skies.

Amelia poured herself a glass of wine, her hand shaking slightly as she did so. She considered going upstairs to help Daniel, but the thought of the attic, crammed with forgotten memories, sent a wave of nausea through her. She leaned against the kitchen counter, taking a deep breath, and called Daniel, "Daniel, everything okay up there?"