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.141Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0AejPen3I2
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.141Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLQd0MQj9pm
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.141Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmuSps4nZx9
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.141Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjaek8BDn5F
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.141Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsHQRsYYkGU
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.141Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSd5sDBzOBB
Or does he?141Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbK74BcYLNW
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.141Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡe9IiFVBdNq
God, I have my father's eyes, but my mother's when I cry...141Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡa8RxrbhAQd
141Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqT3SiBtEvU
