Gemotions

The old house creaked and groaned, a symphony of unsettling sounds. She sat on the porch swing, the rhythmic motion failing to soothe her. The realtor had called, her voice cheerful, apologetic. "Such a shame," she had said, offering a discount. A double homicide. The living room. Every shadow seemed to lengthen, every sound amplified.

She felt like a prisoner in her own home. The sun began to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in fiery hues that somehow seemed ominous. She pulled her sweater tighter around herself, her teeth chattering even though it wasn't cold. Getting up and leaving seemed like an impossible feat.