Gemotions

The old Victorian house creaked around her, and the fire in the hearth seemed to offer no warmth. Ms. Bell rubbed her arms, a shiver running down her spine. The stained-glass window in the entryway cast an eerie light across the room. A hand-painted portrait had arrived, from a former student named Ethan. He had been an artist, a dreamer. The painting was of her, a perfect likeness, but her eyes looked haunted.

She walked towards the front door, feeling trapped and constricted. The painting followed her with its accusing gaze. The air in the house was heavy, making it difficult to breathe. She wished she had never left the house today.