• "Amelia," Dad whispered, sounding a bit breathless. I looked him up and down. Up until now, I hadn't realized how different from him I looked. he was blonde and tan; I was dark haired and pale. I was petite and slender, and he was tall and had muscles from farm work. Then I met his eyes. My eyes. Only his held concern, fear, grief, remorse... feeling from a past I didn't know about.
    "Dad," I finally said, my voice cracking a bit from emotion. Whether the feelings were positive or negative, I didn't know yet,
    "It's good to see you, Melly." Is what I hoped he'd say. But nooooo. Instead, all he uttered was "You've grown." Typical. He was cautious as ever around me, like I'd explode any second. I didn't say anything else. Neither did he.
    The drive to the farm was a half hour consisting of nothing but awkward-turtle silence. I had so many questions, but no clue how to ask any of them. Dad said nothing except for mumbling to himself occasionally, which, I admit, sort of freaked me out. I could catch small snatches like:
    "Untrained", "Probably didn't even get..." And such. So I had absolutely no idea what he was thinking, and couldn't start a good conversation.
    Instead, I gazed out the window at passing countryside. Dark clouds threatened summer storms soon (try saying that ten times fast!). For about the millionth-billionth time, I wondered why the hell Dad lived way out here,
    It wasn't long until the familiar tiny yellow house came into view. Then again, there wasn't anything to block my line of sight, except cows and sheep. Maybe. No buildings, no phone lines(no reception), and NO decent take-out. Nada.
    Cornrowe officially sucked a**.