I packed my bags to go to Forks to live with my uncle Charles the 6349634106th, but I call him Da Monkey Man. I was going because my mum had decided to take up an interesting new career path; suicide bombing.
"I won't miss you," my mum said as she dropped me off at the airport, "But I want you to stay safe, so I want you to take a survival kit I stole for you from my new work placement." I opened the pack to find an impressive selection of weapons. "You've got a few knives, some guns, poisons, explosives and the like. Good luck, because you're going to die. Bye, darling."
The plane flight was rather boring, and there was a very awkward silence as Uncle Charles was drving me back to his house after I landed at the airport.
"Your hair's grown," he said expressionlessly, without looking at me.
"Yeah, it's hair. It tends to do that." I replied sarcastically. I am very sarcastic.
Once we got back "home", he showed me to my room. The walls were drab and grey, and the room contained a single, lumpy-looking matress.
"Ok, this is your room." He threw my suitcase onto the matress. "You do like purple, don't you?"
"Purple's...cool." I feared the worst about my new home and school life.