Everything can be nothing in just a second; but nothing can be your everything for a lifetime.

I was terrified instead of surprised.

It wasn't an exaggeration to say my heart had stopped for a second.

Even as I fell to the hard cemented floor and Alicia's voice fell on my deaf ears, I didn't blink. Not even once.

You were there.

You stood there at the kitchen table.

You were here.

Like...

Like everything was back to normal.

"Dad, what's wrong?" Crouching beside me, Alicia shook my right shoulder for a couple of times before I turned to her. "Are you okay?"

"Y-Your..." I stared at both of them. "She's..." But my words were swallowed down when I saw deeper into their eyes.

They were so empty.

I knew they were worried but their eyes were so blank, like they held nothing at all. And I could see bags under them. A sign that they hadn't slept.

I took in a deep breath and tried to calm myself down. It helped a little but not completely. Because my heart was still thumping madly that I couldn't focus well.

"I-I just slipped. Nothing's wrong." I blurted out. "Sorry."

They were still looking at me with furrowed eyebrows.

"I'm just tired." My voice came out deep and this time, I didn't lie. Maybe that was why I'm convinced as well.

I guessed they understood that because they helped me up and went back to the dining table without another word. After a few more breath of air and making sure Alicia and Erik weren't looking at me, I started to think.

Did I just see wrong?

My eyes were glued to the ground. Should I? My heart started thumping madly again, my heartbeat rate increasing with every passing second.

I averted my gaze. Slowly, I glanced at the table then darted to the walls before returning back to the ground in just a second.

Are you really back?

I gripped my fists with a little strength to overcome my inner conflict. I had to.

With wavering determination, I looked up from the ground and scanned the whole area.

Nothing.

I was so overwhelmed with relief; I stopped breathing for a moment. But I couldn't deny that my heart sunk to the bottom of my stomach in disappointment.

You weren't there. The kitchen was empty and so was the living room. There was no you preparing breakfast or sweeping the floor. Just Erik and Alicia.

Naturally.

I was just really tired.

But really, hallucinations?

I couldn't believe myself.

I was going to put this down and let it go, wasn't I?

Closing the door behind me, I walked past the dining table and sat down in the living room. My hand reached for the remote control and turned the television on, absentmindedly choosing a channel I would never watch. It didn't matter anyway.

The silence was very different in the house today. It was the first time I had wanted the quietness to be broken instead. Maybe some cooking or cleaning sounds or the children's frustrating groans. Anything was better than a suffocating atmosphere.

But even so, it had always been silent. No one made any unnecessary comments or small talk. Just simple answers. It turned out that way when your dementia worsened.

You didn't answer us when we called out. We had to speak louder and use simple words as if we were talking to a child. You didn't remember what we said. Your eyes were always distant. You changed. And you forgot. About us.

But you were always doing something; I could still remember.

This was such a weird mix of feelings. Like a whirlpool, consuming me but I didn't know what was swirling inside madly.

I was sitting here without you. But just days ago, back when you were still here, I never tried to talk to you. Now? I didn't know what to say either.

Everything should have changed, but why do I feel that nothing has?

And that thought terrified me.

The sound of the clock ticking pulled me out of my daze. I was going to make breakfast but when I looked back at the dining table, no one sat there. The house was empty. I hadn't even realized when Erik and Alicia had gone for work.

Alright. I let out a small breath and decided. Maybe I should, too.

I turned off the television with a click on the remote control.

The colours on the screen disappeared and were replaced with a reflection.

Standing up abruptly, I turned around.

Then, I saw you, again.