Gemotions

The silence in the apartment was deafening. I paced the floor, my footsteps echoing in the empty space. Every object, every piece of furniture, felt foreign, disconnected from me. The DNA results had confirmed it: I wasn't who I thought I was.

I picked up a photo of my parents. Their smiles felt brittle now, their words ringing hollow in my mind. The betrayal felt profound. I felt a pressure inside my chest that made it hard to breathe.

I sat on the couch, staring at the television, but nothing registered. The images flickered and danced, a senseless display of color and light. I felt numb. I felt heavy. I felt as though I was drowning.