I live with my dad plus mom in a tiny house. Lately, things feel off. We share meals, crack jokes, yet now and then we clash - just how families do. I head to class, he clocks into his job while she handles chores around the house. Still, outta nowhere, it's like the air changed. A weird vibe sits there, hard to explain.
That night, everything felt still - just me in bed with a book while Mom dozed off nearby. A pale glow slipped through the glass, shifting shadows across the walls. Then came a faint tap at the door. I froze. At that hour? Nobody ever knocked then. I said hi, yet nobody replied. After that, the door creaked open - my dad stood there. That froze me.
He mentioned he only stopped by to see how I was doing. That gave me some relief, since I figured he cared. Yet after a while, he didn't leave like expected. His words started making me uneasy inside. I had no clue what made him talk like that. Still, I glanced aside, faking tiredness - yet every word pulled me in. My pulse jumped out of nowhere. Fear mixed with total bewilderment. Though I ached to bolt, my limbs just froze.
Later on, stuff just seemed off. Each moment I spotted him, my stomach tightened. Whenever he grinned my way, something fluttered deep down. His reactions didn't make sense to me. Acting usual near him - and Mom - was tough, even if I pushed myself. Sometimes he'd glance my way, then turn his head fast. I kept thinking it wasn't right - this kind of feeling had no place here.
Through the day, we'd chat without issues. He'd wonder about my classes, plus folks around me - I'd reply. Now and then, I chuckled at his humor, despite not really feeling it. Things felt off, yet I hoped they'd go back to how they used to. My mom couldn't know. I couldn't talk to anybody. Besides, I feared they just wouldn't get it.
That day, while I stood in the kitchen next to Mom, chopping veggies, Dad walked up behind us. A grin spread across his face when he saw me. Suddenly, warmth rushed into my cheeks. The spoon slipped from my hand, clattering onto the floor. Mom turned, eyes narrowed, wondering why it fell. I stayed quiet instead of explaining. She brushed it off - didn't think much of it - but Dad watched closely. He gave a small grin then headed off. One moment I was glad, the next I wasn't so sure.
I started seeing small stuff. Like how his hand brushed my shoulder when passing by. Or the quiet tone he used calling my name. I kept trying to look away, yet it followed me around. Even showed up in his stare. It showed up when he laughed at my jokes. The truth? I didn't like that I paid attention - but something kept pulling me back.
At school, I just wanted to escape. Hanging out with buddies helped distract me. Yet once I walked through the front door, that heavy weight returned. Shutting myself inside, I'd focus on taking deep breaths. Repeating in my head - just a slip-up, nothing more. It'll fade soon enough. Only it didn't.
That night I jolted awake from a scary dream. Dad walked into my room once more. My heart pounded fast. I tried to yell - nothing came out. He checked if I was alright - so I nodded. Then he plopped down next to me, spoke some words, suddenly everything felt off. That wasn't what I wanted at all. I shoved his arm, yet he stayed put. A quiet sob slipped out - he got up only after that.
From then on, things weren't the same. Guilt crept in, fear stuck around, confusion piled up. Meals didn't sit right. Nights were restless. While Mom moved through the kitchen, wiped surfaces, my words stayed locked inside. Talking seemed impossible. The walls closed in slowly.
Time dragged on. Whenever Dad got near, my stomach tightened. Each smile from him sent my pulse racing. I loathed what I felt yet couldn't look away. I kept saying it's messed up - better to leave - but some pull just held me there.
I sensed a shift right away. Trouble was already unfolding. No clue where this was headed. Wondered if people would get it at all. One thing felt certain - after that night, everything turned different.