Gemotions

The letter arrived in a crisp, white envelope: "DNA Results." The words seemed to mock David's sense of self. He’d lived his life believing in one story, and now, another was forced upon him. The test revealed a family history he’d never known. He felt unsteady, as if the ground beneath him was crumbling.

He immediately drove to his parents’ house, his hands gripping the steering wheel. He sought the familiar safety of their home. He wanted to be taken care of, to be told what to do. He felt a sinking feeling, and he wanted to be held. He wanted to feel safe.

He curled up in his childhood bed that night, clutching his favorite stuffed animal, a worn and faded teddy bear he had loved as a child. The familiar scent of the fabric, the softness of the fur, was a balm to his frayed nerves. He wanted to be a child again, protected from the world.