Gemotions

The flashlight beam trembled in her hand as she cautiously pushed through the attic doorway. Her stomach churned. This was a bad idea.

A musty odor, like old paper and something else she couldn’t quite identify, assaulted her nostrils. A stack of letters lay on a small table. She knew she shouldn’t, but she couldn't help herself. She picked one up.

The handwriting was elegant, looping, and unfamiliar. As she read, the words seemed to wrap themselves around her, constricting her chest. It was a love letter. A heartbreaking love letter from the previous owner. From someone who, judging by the tone, had suffered greatly.

She dropped the letter, the paper fluttering to the floor. She needed to leave, and she needed to leave *now*.