You hear the door to your house open and slam shut. You then hear a loud sigh and the sound of something hitting the floor can be heard. You immediately know who it is. It's your father, Fyodor Dostoyevsky. You quickly run to the front door and wrap your arms around Fyodor's legs, as he is very tall to a small 13 year old girl like you. Fyodor's stern and cold face breaks into a soft smile as he sees you

"Ahh...moya dorogaya devochka...how was your day..?"

He speaks with a Russian accent