I want to cry. Or scream. Or break something.
The DNA test is on my desk, and the words are staring at me, watching me closely, as if to show me how wrong I was.
How wrong I am.342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTjARdTmkou
When a man in a tuxedo turned up at me and my mum's apartment last month and said that he worked for my long-gone dad, I wanted to laugh. The story seemed so stupid, so unrealistic.342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSaYlMjgGsW
Until now.
Until I saw how much we looked alike.
Turns out he's rich. Turns out he used to be married to someone else but recently discovered that she was cheating on him, so he divorced her. I was told I had half-siblings, but apparently the wife had cheated on my father way before that, so the kids were the biological children of another man.
When the guard told me all of this, all I could think was that he deserved this.
He deserved all the pain in the world for leaving my mum and I. Even if she was poor and had no family, that wasn't a reason to leave her, under a simple pretext that his family disapproved.
Barron Turner.342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdTQPoWHYcU
The name of the man who fathered me. The name of the man who left me. The name of the man I hate the most.342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRHHyW0PXgb
Yet right now, I can't feel hate towards him. I can't. All I can think about is how much we look alike. Same hair, same button nose, same lips, same fair skin.
Same eyes.
God, I have my father's eyes.342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQuIw5YCHXN
Suddenly, all of this new information rushes to my head, and not for the first time this month, I want to cry. I want to cry because after fifteen years of living in the dark, I finally know. I know who he is, and I know he wants me.342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡP8ukQOvPLX
Or does he?342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6H4TvgZjf2
The tears start to fall onto my cheeks before I can restrain them further, and I let them trace their tracks on my pink cheeks. I let them stain my lips, and relish the slightly salty taste.
I go to the bathroom, because I want to see those blue eyes that are so like my father's. Those almond-shaped, sky blue eyes that are identical to the picture of the man who is said to match my DNA on a scientific test.
As I enter the bathroom, my eyes instantly find my reflection on the mirror. I stare at myself for a long, long time. And finally...
My eyes no longer look like his.
They're red rimmed, and the tears have almost slightly blurred the blue to a greenish blue that borders on turquoise. Turquoise...
It hits me then and there, and I start to feel slightly, just slightly better. My heart feels a little lighter, and the corners of my lips turn upwards.342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4WgWyQfqMU
God, I have my father's eyes, but my mother's when I cry...342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUCqf77Xaur
342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡK0ycF5smyr
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