When I pulled up at home my dad's car was in the driveway once again but this time there was another car beside his. I grabbed my painting and got out. I let myself in the house and smelled the air. I've made that a daily routine since the first time I smelled it.

Cheveyo, as strong as ever, lingered in the house. I smiled feeling a lot less down. It's so comforting to come home and smell him. When you're home alone all the time, you need something to keep you feeling safe and now I feel safe when I'm home.

I heard my dad talking quietly with someone in the living room. I headed upstairs as quietly as possible. I don't want to walk in on him banging that tramp again. That is not something I want to deal with now. I tripped over something on the stairs and stumbled. I cursed to myself when I heard him stop talking.

"Shawn?" My dad called. "Is that you?" Crap! I thought as I turned around and dragged myself back down the steps. If I don'tanswer, he'll just come looking and I'll have to talk to him eventually. The last time he was here I tried to stay as far away from him as possible.

"Yea," I said gloomily. "Its me." I walked into the room with an expressionless face. I looked up and saw my dad sitting with Karen. That's her name. Karen Hill, come to find out, she's my dad's assistant. How cliché is that? The business man having sex with the busty assistant. She smiled at me, I grimaced at her, wiping the smile clean off her face.

"What is that you're holding?" She asked after a moment. I still had the large painting of Cheveyo and I in my hands. I tried to hide it behind my back.

"Mind your business." I mumbled. I'm not going to pretend to like her because quite frankly, I hate her. I don't know a thing about her but that doesn't make me hate her any less. I hate her because she's with my father, I hate her because he pays more attention to her than he ever has to me. I hate her because she's here and my mother isn't.

"Be nice Shawnee." My father warned. I rolled my eyes at him and held out the painting. The two of them got up and walked over to me, hand in hand. If this picture didn't mean so much to me, I would throw it at them. My dad took the painting from my hands and stared down at it.

"Why does the girl resemble you?" Karen asked hesitantly. Sara is the only person who knew for sure who the person is. None of my other friends suspected anything, then comes little miss prissy getting things right. 

"What makes you think that's me?" I snapped rudely. She flinched back a little and shrugged.

"You have the same body and you just look similar." She said after a moment. She wouldn't look at me and I'm thankful for it. Every time she looked me in the eye I gave her 'The Glare of Death.'

"Do you have a boyfriend?!" My father roared sounding angry. I laughed at him sarcastically.

"Yea dad, I'm really dating a guy with arrows hanging out of his chest." I am. "Even if I did you wouldn't know," I said. "You're too busy with that." I gestured towards Karen. She gasped and covered her mouth. "When is the last time you actually did something with me?

When is the last time we had our father-daughter day? When is the you were actually a father?" He stood there looking at me hurt but I don't care. "Oh I forgot, when mom died, you officially didn't have a daughter anymore." He didn't say anything for a few minutes he just stood there looking at me. His face is expressionless and it looks like my words had no effect on him.

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