Gemotions

He tried to rationalize it. It was just a house. Buildings don't hold memories, do they? But the knowledge that a brutal crime had occurred within its walls gnawed at him. He found himself walking through the rooms, feeling the temperature of the air change as he moved.

He took to checking the locks multiple times before going to bed. He started sleeping with a baseball bat beside his bed. He couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, of not being alone.

The silence of the house, which he'd once found comforting, now felt deafening. He considered selling it, but the thought of the financial loss, and the hassle, made him hesitate. He felt trapped.