Night-light (A Twilight Parody)
For you Twi-lighters, I thought I might write this parody for you. :)
Personally, I like a Twilight, but, hey, you've got to make fun of something that's easy to make fun of. :)
Hope you guys enjoy.
Please comment, read and rate. :)
His car was tiny, no surprise, being chief of police in this town, Knives. When I was younger, Knives had been a second home to me, a haven for me to relax and forget about the problems of my young life back home in Catus-Land. But now, God, I couldn't stand Knives! Stupid constant rain, stupid itchy ferns, stupid everything-that-ever-existed-in-Knives...but I'm proud. Too proud, most of the time, so when Mom said at the airport, "Honey, you know you don't have to do this," I was about to jump into her arms saying, "OH! Thank God for that!" but I didn't, so here I am. Yay.
"We're almost there, Bec," Harley alerted me.
I nodded in response and continued to stare out at the green, alien planet that was my new home for the next month. The scene suddenly started to change from a fluro green to a soft, forest green as we entered semi-suburbia. The road twsited gently through the town's main attraction; a bear made out of wood wearing a knitted hat. God help me.
"Dad?" I asked.
"Where exactly is your house?"
"Oh, come on, Becca. You know, it's on the edge of town, near the beach."
"Yeah, Da Bomb. Great place, perfect for sunbathing."
I looked up at the sky, a dark, murky blanket of everlasting clouds stood before me. I glanced over at Harley, raising my eyebrows. "Sun bathing? Really?"
He looked at me nervously. "Er...yes. You know when...never mind..." He added hopelessly. The engine slowed down as he pulled into a driveway. I familiarised myself with the house that stood in front of me. This was my home, well...was, my home, until Dad's cleaning lady took off with me and forced me to become a child star in a TV show. (sigh) I hope they're nice to Helga in prison...
"Bec? You coming?" Dad asked, looking at me.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks," I mutter, getting out of the car door awkwardly. Harley hands me my suitcase and walks me to the door. His fingers fumble withthe keys, as though he wants to impress me by how slowly he can get a door open. I roll my eyes, realising his intentions were annoyingly working. I snatched the keys from him and shoved them into the key hole. He smiled at me, embarrased. I smiled back and took in the air of the tiny house. It smelt like lavender, fresh laundry and a Portugese corpse rotting in the cellar, nothing had changed.