Disclaimer: It isn't mine. Well, the plot is. So are the characters. The rest isn't.
My friend typed this up for me, so any stupid errors are her fault. Either that or my awful handwriting.
Title: Paranoia
Chapter1
Like most stories, it started with a vacation.
"Here we are!"
My Dad stepped out of the car. There was an awesome mountain view from a little cabin surrounded by trees. I got out of the car and stepped up to stand next to my Dad. I turned and viewed our new Mercedes car. Wow. Silver, against a cloudy setting sun, created a picture that one of those magazine ads would die for. My Dad turned towards the car too. For some reason, he got in.
"Uh, what the heck are you doing? Aren't we going to unpack?"
Dad looked fearfully at the sky. I looked up again.
"Dad, it's a stupid owl. What's the big deal? It's dusk, right?"
All Dad did was to motion me frantically towards the car. The key was inserted into the ignition. Full speed down the dirt road caused a flurry of dust that you could see through as easily as looking through a god-damned tree.
End of vacation. That was short.
My God, it was an owl, but my Dad always does odd stuff like that. A guy wearing a cloak causes us to move. I don't know why. I mean, for all we know, the guy's wearing a black cloak 'cuz he's Gothic or it's in his style. Anyway, I suck at making friends, so my life has been pretty lonely. I never knew my mom. I don't have siblings, at least as far as I know. It's just a girl and her Dad driving across the US for no apparent reason. As we got onto the highway, I started to sing a nice, happy little tune to myself.
"When we were young our future was so bright
The old neighborhood was so alive
And every kid on the whole damn street
Was gonna make it big and not be beat
Now the neighborhood's cracked and torn
The kids are grown up but their lives are worn
How can one little street swallow so many lives
Chances blown
Nothing's free
Longing for what
It used to be
Still, it's hard
Hard to see
Fragile lives
Shattered dreams
"Lisa, what are you singing?"
"Nothing, Dad, it's just the Offspring."
"Oh. I couldn't recognize it."
"We're going home now?"
"No, but keep me awake, it's almost 11:45."
"Where are we going?"
"Airport."
"WHAT?!?!"
"Second thought, you just fall asleep, I have my coffee."
"Why? Why are we going to the airport?"
"Go to sleep."
Yeah, right. OK, this was really starting to freak me out. It may be normal for other people to fly all the time, but not when your Dad's afraid of planes. Dad's afraid of everything. Like this one time, I was fed up, completely, enough to take desperate action. This was when we had a house, and I had a computer. So, naturally, I was playing violent games. This one consisted of blasting people with wands, and I was a witch. I was on the third level when a shadow fell over me. I looked up to see a bat swing with violent rage into the computer. I screamed, and Dad spent the next ten minutes spazzing out, beating up my computer. He didn't notice me run away. I snuck into the shed, jumped on my bike, and thought about everything as I pedaled along the street. How much I would love to have a friend. Why Dad acted this way. If I didn't go back, what would happen to me. I quote Keanu Reves: "You need a license to drive a car, hell, you need a license to catch a fish, but they'll let anyone be a father."
So? Do you like it? Do you hate it? If this came out screwed up it's not my fault.