Here’s your 300-word story:
The auditorium buzzed with excitement as the speaker took the stage. I wasn’t paying much attention—until the moment he rolled up his sleeve.
There, on his arm, was a birthmark.
The same shape. The same place as mine.
My heart pounded. It was impossible… wasn’t it?
I turned to my mom, gripping her arm. “Mom, look!” I whispered, pointing.
Her face drained of color. “No,” she said sharply. “It’s not him.”
But something in her voice—fear, hesitation—made me doubt her. I had grown up without a father, told that he had left before I was born. But now, staring at the man on stage, something deep inside me knew.
Ignoring my mom’s protests, I shot out of my seat, pushing through the crowd. “Dad!” I shouted, my voice cracking. “Is that you?”
The man froze, the microphone shaking in his hand. The audience fell silent, confused murmurs rippling through the crowd.
Slowly, he turned, his eyes locking onto mine. And in that instant, I saw it—recognition.
He took a shaky breath, stepping closer. “What did you say?”
Tears blurred my vision. “Are you my dad?”
Gasps spread through the room. My mom had caught up to me, her face tight with panic. “We need to go,” she hissed, trying to pull me back.
But the man—this stranger who suddenly didn’t feel like a stranger—ignored her. His voice trembled as he asked, “What’s your name?”
I barely managed to whisper it. And then, in front of everyone, his eyes filled with tears.
“I—” His voice broke. “I never knew. I never knew you existed.”
And just like that, everything I thought I knew about my life changed forever.
Would you like any tweaks or additions?
