I know I didn't get three reviews, put one is enough for me. Thanks to Dragon Princess for reading my story. Now I know I'm not a total loser. This chapter is rated T but chapters in the future will be rated M. Hope you enjoy this part of my story!

Disclaimer: I do not own Silver Kiss, but I do own an imagination!

They held the funeral a week later. During that time Zoë had seen very little of her dad. Almost ad little as when her mother was alive. He had so much to do to plan the funeral and when he wasn't he would take his wine bottles in the basement and cry himself into a drunken sleep. The therapist they had been seeing said that it was "just a stage" that Zoë had to help him recover from. But Harry's (Zoë's dad) "stage" had been going on for the past year and a half. When Zoë's mom had pasted the point of no recovery, Harry took up drinking. Zoë was done helping her dad try to quit. It was pointless. Whenever she went near him while he was drunk he would yell at her to go away. He said she looked too much like her mother.

Zoë did have to give him credit though. The ceremony was beautiful and everybody came. He had spared no expense with the decoration, the music, and the food. Zoë had very little time to think about how he paid for all this because she had to greet so many people. Zoë was starting to get annoyed with all the, "I'm sorry" and "Your so strong" and the looks of pity that everybody was giving her. She was just about to sneak out when a familiar face appeared. Zoë knew she was not supposed to be smiling at her mother's funeral, but when Lorraine walked in the door she let out the squeal of a five year old on Christmas and ran to hug her long lost friend.

"I'm so happy you could come." Zoë said through tears of mixed joy and sorrow.

"I won't miss this for the world" Lorraine replied. Zoë felt like she could do anything now. The only person missing was Simon. But she had very little time to think about that because the ceremony was starting. Everybody had something nice to say about Anne. Zoë had even written a poem for the service, which got a round of applause. Immediately after the service Zoë's dad disappeared and left Zoë to play hostess for all the mourners. She was furious with her father but she didn't care anymore. She was so sick and tired of his drunken ways that when she and Lorraine got to her house, they just walked past the basement and didn't stop to say hello. They went up to Zoë's room to chat and catch up on old times.

"I wish I could have come at a happier time." Lorraine said when the conversation died down.

"Me too," was Zoë's reply. "But you know what? She is in a better place, and we all knew it was coming. Now all that's left is to pick up the broken pieces and move on." Tears started filling up her eyes. How could she say these things? Lorraine echoed her thoughts.

"Is it really going to be that easy for you?" Lorraine looked at Zoë in disbelief.

"No, but I have to learn how to be strong. My mom wouldn't want me to become a hermit and give up on life just because she is gone." Zoë smiled remembering her mother telling her to live her life to the fullest because you don't know how long it's going to be. As they sat there, mulling over Zoë's word the grandfather clock in the hallway struck the hour. BONG, BONG. It was two o'clock in the morning.

"I had better go," Lorraine said. "My flight back to Oregon is at noon and I can never sleep on planes." Zoë was sad to see her friend leave but knew she couldn't keep her here forever. School would be starting soon and Zoë had to start thinking about applying to colleges. She called a cab for Lorraine and walked her to the door. Zoë saw the light was still on in the basement and figured her father had passed out down there. Sure enough, when she went down to check on him he was on the floor with an ocean of bottles and cans around him. She picked him up, with much difficulty, and put him on the basement couch. She also placed two Advil's and a glass of water next to him for his morning hang over. She would have to talk to him tomorrow, than she too went to bed.

The next morning Harry Sutcliff was still sleeping on the couch in the basement. Zoë decided to go run some errands while he was sleeping. She wouldn't need to get any food because all the neighbors had brought over a dish. But she did need to get other necessities. She went to the general store and picked up some more Advil and some razors for her father. He hadn't shaved in awhile and was looking a little scraggly. She also picked up some shampoo and a few magazines to read. When she got home, her dad was up looking for something to eat.

"Dad we need to talk." Zoë said as she walked into the kitchen. Harry was carrying a glass of orange juice, probably with vodka, and looked like he hadn't showered in days. He only mumbled at his daughter when she spoke to him and swayed a little when he walked.

"Dad, I really need to talk with you!" Zoë almost yelled at her father.

"What?" Harry grunted.

"I bought some shampoo, and some razors. Don't you think you should at least shave?" But all she got as a reply was a mumble. " Come on Dad, SNAP OUT OF IT!" She was yelling at him yell. He just waved a hand at her to go away. "DAD LOOK AT ME WHEN I'M SPEAKING TO YOU!" Zoë yelled as she grabbed his hand. The moment she touched him a swung around and hit her with the hand he held his glass in. The orange juice spilled all over her.

"You can't talk to me like that," Harry slurred. "You're not my wife. Speaking of which, I have to go see her at the hospital. She'll be getting better any day now." And he made his way to the door. Zoë was applauded at the way her father was acting. She wanted to swing around and hit him herself, but she didn't. Instead she replied in an icy cold voice.

"Anne is dead. She died a week ago. If you stopped drinking you could remember that." Zoë looked him dead in the eye and waited for his intoxicated brain to put two and two together.

"I don't want to remember." Harry said in the littlest voice he could make. Zoë sighed and hugged her dad's shoulders.

"It's okay dad. Mom would have wanted you to remember her. We just have to move on." She gave her dad a little squeezed. But he just swung around and hit her again.

"HOW CAN YOU MOVE ON WHEN THE PERSON YOU LOVE THE MOST IS DEAD?" He grabbed the grocery bags and ran to the upstairs bathroom. Zoë sat there with her mind going blank. Her father he never acted like this before. She reached up to her forehead where his ring had cut her head. She went to the empty bathroom to clean it and put a Band-Aid on it. The whole time Zoë was thinking. I can't be mad at him. He is drunk. Zoë just wanted things back to the way they were. Back when they were a family.

When Zoë left the bathroom she heard the shower running. I hope he took my advice to clean himself and shave. Zoë walked up stairs and knocked on the bathroom door. There was no answer. She opened the door a little and saw that water was spilling out of the shower/tub. She sighed and went to turn the water off, but when she pulled back the curtain she got a nasty surprise. The bathtub was filled with blood and lying at the bottom was her father. Zoë gasped and saw that he had cut his wrist with the razors she had bought. Harry Sutcliff was dead.

To be continued…