Puzzle: Jigsaw's Daughter

.:2:.

Throughout the whole ride to John's house I stared out of the window, knowing that if I made eye-contact with the police officer, who was driving me, I would cry. It was tearing me apart to leave this place. All I knew was that I would be moving into a large town-not quite a city-and I would go to school there. Nobody told me anything about John, they knew as little about him as I did. The stress was eating away at me, as I daydreamed.
"We're nearly there." I jumped in my seat at the sudden sound of the man's gruff voice, banging my head on the ceiling of the car. I groaned and leaned back, shoving my hands into my pockets. Great, now to top it all off I also had a headache.

A few minutes later we pulled up in front of an average-looking house. It was painted a soft cream colour and had many windows. It looked spacious. I climbed out of the police car, tightly clutching my bags. The officer escorted me to the great front door and gave it two loud knocks. I shyly bowed my head. What would John look like? Would he be anything like me? Was he happy to have me live with him? Would he like me? Would he hate me? Would he accept me? My heart was beating faster then ever. I took a shaky breath, as the front door slowly opened. Inside of the house stood...a woman? She had shoulder-length brown hair and a worried expression. She tried to hide it as best as she could, but I was good at tracing feelings just from the atmosphere.

I didn't say anything, waiting for her to speak first. After a few seconds she did, her voice sounding soft.
"We weren't expecting you so early. I'm Amanda, and you must be Samara?" It sounded more like a question, forcing me to nod in agreement. Who was this woman? She was young and pretty, was it possible that John had found himself a new wife? So many questions raced into my head as she waved her hand, inviting me in. The police officer said his goodbyes and left, closing the door behind him. Amanda rushed me into the living room, where she told me to sit down. The place was indeed massive. Two of the walls were painted a light peach colour, whereas the other ones were a soft, caramel shade of brown. Everything looked so formal: the long beige sofa and two armchairs with the same colour on them. The ceiling was pearly white and a grand chandelier hung off of it, coating the room in light.

"I will be right back," Amanda informed me hurriedly. "I'm going to get John." She ran down the wide carpeted hallway, which connected two parts of the house. I took another quick glance around. The peculiar thing was that there was no TV, only bookshelves, and the furniture looked slightly dusty, like no one had actually been here for a while. Naturally I would have gone sniffing around like the curious person I was, but I knew that this was not the right place or time. I stiffened at the sound of two pairs of footsteps and the squeaky sound of rubber against wood. Cautiously I spun around adjusting my position on the sofa. Amanda entered the room very slowly, followed by a man.

I did not expect him to look this way. This man seemed crippled! He had fair blonde hair and dark circles under his eyes, slightly similar to my mother's. I shivered at the thought. He looked tired and worn out by whatever he had been up to. It felt like his legs would collapse under him at any moment and a pained expression covered his face. Amanda had to be a support to him, his hand resting on her shoulder as she held him up. Along with them a hospital-looking monitor was wheeled in, connected to John's hand by a single tube. The screen flashed with what seemed to be his heart rate. I was surprised that he could actually stand! All he wore was an old pair of sweatpants and a dark hoodie, both of the sleeves pulled up halfway up his arms.

I did not know how I should react. This was John, my...dad and I was his...daughter. Even thoughts of those words made me flinch on the outside. John examined my face, as if searching for something in particular, as he tapped Amanda's shoulder. She leaned down, her ear close to his lips. John whispered something to her and she nodded. I panicked. They must have been talking about me! I didn't present myself in the right way. How could someone be impressed by me? I didn't greet him, not even a simple 'hello'. What kind of person was I? Yes, I was shy, but this shouldn't have made meeting someone so close-yet so far-to me a complication. Suddenly a wave of guilt washed over me, informing me of all of the things I should have done. The only sound in the room was the slow beeping of the heart-monitor. I looked down in shame. Amazing first impression, I just ruined my chance for a nice life. My head snapped up at the sound of a raspy voice.
"Hello, Samara." I raised my head and faced John, who moved closer to me and let go of Amanda.
"H-hello," I stuttered in response. Starting a conversation was not something which I had mastered.
"How are you?" John asked politely.
"I'm fine, thank you." My cheeks flushed from this whole situation. I felt intimidated, but attempted to hide it as best as I could.
"No need to be embarrassed," he reassured. John kept a straight face, whereas mine grew an even deeper shade of red. How did he know I felt like that? I was great at hiding emotions-that was mainly why my old friends hadn't left me ages ago. All I did was nod and look to the side, breaking the connection between our eyes.

A cough escaped John's lips. Then another. Suddenly Amanda was at his side, holding him up once again. She helped him out of the room and down the long-looking hallway, as John wheezed and panted like he had just ran a marathon. I sighed. Starting over would be the hardest thing I had ever experienced. John was sick, but I didn't know what was wrong with him. From the way he looked at Amanda I could tell that it was very unlikely for them to be together. I had seen married couples and people in relationships; they looked at each other with lust and love. The look which John was giving the woman seemed emotionless, bored. Maybe slightly intrigued, but definitely not loving. It felt like he was waiting for something, a move she would make, but what did I know? I just met him two minutes ago.