Midnight: A Twilight Parody

Midnight - Chapter 1

Hey, bitches. I'm Ella Swine. My eyes are dark brown, almost black in color, and my hair is filthy and oily. Guess that's what happens after not washing it for a month. My skin is so pale I could see my veins through it's transparency. I hope a vampire doesn't come lashing out of no where, latching onto my wrist. That would be ironic, wouldn't it?

Anyway, my mom is shipping me off to my dad's because her fiance, Bill, has a tour for his hockey team. Great. My dad, Barley, lives in some rinky-dink town that's so unheard of it's not even on a map. Where is Sporks anyway, in the middle of no where?

After my flight, daddy-o picked me up from the airport. Now, we're driving in his stupid ass Police car with his stupid ass lights. He keeps turning them on when we get to red lights so he can run them, as if it were an actual emergency. Great role model, he is.

I can see him looking at me in the corner of my eye. Let me rephrase that - staring. Like, his eyes aren't even on the road. "Is there a problem?" I spat at him with venom as he continues to stare with his beady brown eyes. They look like floating pieces of shit, swirling around in a toilet. He doesn't reply. Instead, he looks down my cleavage. I roll my eyes and turn to face the window. Fucking pervert.

We finally reach his home. The white paint is chipping away and starting to peel off. I observe in disgust. As we park, he reaches over to touch my thigh, but I swat his hand away. "Get out of the fucking car, you fucking perv!" He gives me a look then and after that, he gets out and enters the house.

"Your room's upstairs," He says, pointing to the stairway that obviously leads to my room. "Yeah, thanks." I respond sarcastically. I flicker on the light switch. My room is completely different now. Jersey Shore posters hang on the wall, and PlayBoy magazines are scattered on my bed. "Dad, what up with all the PlayBoy?" I scream down to him shuffling through the magazines. "Uh, Ella, that's my room." Oh. No wonder things looked different. I shut the door and head down the hall to my room. Let's hope this is it.

Once again, I find the light switch on the wall and turn it on. It's the same as it was when I was five. The walls are painted a bright pink, my bed is still the light pink canopy that it used to be, except now, the sheets are a dark purple, and the walls are covered in My Little Pony posters. Nice. You'd think he'd change the room up a little, but no, not dad.

I cross my arms and scoff at the sight. Then I start to unpack my belongings, stuffing them in the tiny white drawers. All of a sudden, my father called me down, said there's a visitor, or some shit like that.

"Do you remember the White's? This is Fakeob, and his dad Gilly." I look over at the people in my driveway. Fakeob's hair is long and black and his dad's is the same. They look like dogs, for crying out loud. What they need to do is get their mane tamed.

Fakeob comes over and wraps his arms around me, squeezing me tightly in a hug. All I did was awkwardly stand there while this fucking weirdo sniffed my hair. "Mmm.. Is that Garnier Fructis shampoo?"

What.

The.

Fuck.

Who the fuck is this dude? And why how can he tell what kind of shampoo I use?

"Are you stalking me or something?" He feels his chin, doing the thinker pose. "I prefer to call it observing."

I take a few steps back, laughing nervously as I retreated back to my room. Once I'm in my room, I immediately shut my drapes, put bolts on my windows, and lock all the doors, making sure they're tight and secure. No way that psyco's coming here again. Next time he does, I'm getting a restraining order.

As I continue to make sure the locks are in place, I hear screaming from downstairs. No doubt, they're watching the game. Great. Now I have to hear those weird ass dogs howling all night over some stupid basketball.