... I have nothing to say for myself. I'm almost done with my second year of college and I need to write about something with a canon I have no shame in throwing out the window. Expect a LOT to be different.
Hope you enjoy anyway!
Chapter 1: Dad
"This is it, huh?" The house was humble – one floor, shingled roof, less of a lawn and more of a grassy sprawl that crept into the gravel road. Everything smelled damp from the rain that had ended just before we arrived.
My dad walked around the police car to stand next to me, setting one of my suitcases down. He'd hardly spoken on the drive here, and he wasn't speaking now. I nudged him, and when all he did was grunt, I pulled him into a hug.
"Dad, it's just me, you know? It looks just like I remember it." I picked up the suitcase and walked towards the door, before looking at him again. He hadn't moved, and was looking at me with a furrowed brow. "This'll be great, alright? I promise, we can have a movie night and talk about work and everything." That earned a smile on his gruff face, and I felt my own grin widen.
"Alright," he conceded, walking to the door and unlocking it. "I didn't touch any of your stuff, it should all be in place. Dusty."
"Dad, really?" I laughed a bit as I stepped into the house. "You just let it sit there? You could have had a perfectly good guest room!" He shook his head, the smile still there.
"Already have one, don't need two bare rooms in the house." He seemed to have cheered up from the quiet drive here. Good. Dad seemed sad more than he seemed happy a lot of the time, sad or tired. I guess being a police chief will do that, with how much you have to see.
Not that Forks was particularly crime-riddled from what I had looked up. But that was why I was here, wasn't it? After living in the buzzing city of Phoenix for so long with my equally buzzy (wonderful, but buzzy) mother, a quiet, rainy little town like Forks was just what I needed to relax over the summer before college. A little hokey, sure, but that was alright too. Hokey was charming.
I pulled my stuff into my room – everything that was furniture was still in place, but toys and clothes had been cleared out (probably donated), and the colorful My Little Pony blanket I remembered had been replaced on my bed with a dark blue comforter that was too big for it, and spilled over the edges of the mattress.
I took a moment to take it all in – the room, the sun peeking through the clouds into the windows, the crude "SUNNY'S BED" that was still scrawled onto my headboard from when I'd been far too small for the extra long Dad had accidentally bought instead of a twin.
"It's perfect, Dad!" I called, and he grunted. I laughed. Good old Dad always had a way with words. I set my suitcase down and walked back to the car to get the other one. No point in wasting time unpacking, right?