Gemotions

“Dad, are you sure you’re okay?” The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken questions. He looked at her, his gaze distant, his mouth slightly open as if he had been about to say something, but now wasn't sure what. His eyes, usually bright with recognition, were clouded with a strange lack of comprehension.

“Sarah, who are you?” He said. Her blood ran cold.

She felt her stomach twist. The world seemed to wobble. Her father, the man who had taught her to ride a bike and told her stories every night, didn’t know her. She took a step back, the chair scraping against the floor. “Dad, it’s me. Your daughter. We… we live here together.”

His brow furrowed in concentration, but it didn't help. He just looked bewildered. The colour drained from her face. She felt a strange tingling sensation, beginning in her extremities.