It is just another day in dreary, misty Cutlery County. I peeked out my little window. The earth was dark and squishy from constant rain and I thought to myself “that it is probably slippery”. I tended to fall down often because I have a psychological disorder that keeps me from having a brain. It’s called….something, I can’t remember but it is a very serious disorder and causes me to fall down stairs, run toward danger and realize way too late that I am doing something I shouldn’t be. This is how I met Deadward, but I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me start from the beginning.

My mother became a Carney. She wanted to travel from city to city operating The Gravitron and The Scrambler. She has always wanted to travel but I needed to stay in high school, so I decided to move back to Cutlery where my father resides. My mother warned me about the long depressing days I would now be susceptible to, so instead of falling prey to the bleak weather I decided to try to be as cheerful as possible. No one would know that on the inside I was a girl spackled with insecurity and nonsensical confabulation. Also, I don’t call my dad “dad”. I’m a rebel like that.

Tomorrow is my first day of school in this new place. High school could be brutal and starting over with no friends was giving me anxiety. I tried to remain peppy and cheerful as I got ready for my opening day.

The parking lot was filled with teenagers. I didn’t feel at all like I belonged, I wanted to turn and run but I knew that would draw attention to me and the last thing a gorgeous teenager like me wants is attention. I stood as stone-faced as I could, trying not to look out of place or stupid. The bell rang and I realized I would be in my first class! Oh no! This day signified a new beginning for me and here I was screwing it all up by arriving tardy to class. I am such a dolt. I had to get to class fast otherwise my lateness would draw attention and then….people would look at me. A scream lodged its way into my chest. I had to run. Being the object of attention was terrifying, I’d rather be locked in a lair with vampires than walk into class late. That’s when my disorder kicked in and I realized I wasn’t actually running yet—I was just standing there. I had only been thinking about running but not actually doing it! My god am I ever stupid. That was when I took off and got to class before the bell stopped ringing. Shew.

Dumbass High was not so bad. By the end of the day I had 4 bff’s and every guy at the school wanted to shank me. Not bad for tiny, feather-like me. I knew at some point something horrific had to happen, because sometimes I have inexplicable intuition and I was so right. When I walked into the muddy parking lot a bunch of huge, bulking boys were having themselves a football game. I thought nothing of this and continued walking along happily. Then there was a cacophony of cries and warning shouts saying my name, I looked up to see a mass of strapping, muscled boys rolling right toward me like a giant tumbleweed. Oh no! I had no time to think, so I didn’t. But right then I felt myself flying through the air, not injured or bleeding but angelic and pretty. And I landed safely, far from hurt or pain in the crystalloid arms of my savior, Deadward Sullen.

I stared at him in awe, his face resembled that of a Hollywood actor who was looking lovingly at himself in the mirror. He was diffusing beauty all over me, I felt that his beauty had broken into a million pieces and they were surrounding me, creating a chamber of beauty. His beauty was suddenly everywhere and I was so enraptured that I blushed in embarrassment. Deadward smiled, his mouth curved in a splendid white curve, like a toilet seat. I sighed and this seemed to entertain him. “You must be Principle Duck’s daughter, Twila?” Deadward questioned me more for formal purposes than for appeasing his curiosity, I got the feeling he definitely knew who I was because I had been such a hit on my first day, but admitting that would make me sound arrogant so I pretended that he was a fucking Genius!

“YES!” I exhaled orgasmically, “I am Twila Duck, the principle’s daughter and you just saved me from those footballing savages.” I pointed at them audaciously and fanned myself as if I was a belle at a ball. In mid-point I took in my surroundings. I was no longer in the muddy parking lot of Dumbass High. I was in my bedroom. How did this happen? Was I only dreaming? Where did everyone go? Had I eaten crack for lunch? Why did this weird stuff always happen to me? Did I actually get rammed by the football-playing squadron and was this all a hallucination? How come my boobs are so small? If I was hallucinating you’d think they’d be bigger. Anyway…

..whispering in my ear Deadward relented a sexy montage of illicit words… I was mesmerized by his idyllic, captivating voice. He almost hypnotized me, until I realized what he said…”I watch you sleep, Twila.” I knew this was wrong and not only wrong it was immensely and abhorrently SKETCH. But I liked it so I rubbed my fingers through the silken hair on Deadward’s magnificent skull. He purred like a mountain lion, come to think of it, he kind of smelled like he’d been feasting on live creatures but I thought nothing of that and continued to scrape my fingernails into his glorious, beautiful, exquisite head. Suddenly, as fast as electricity (that’s pretty fast right?) Deadward was standing on the other side of the room. One moment I was comfortable and hankering in his arms and the next moment he zoomed away like he was on ice skates. What the devil? How did he move so fast? How did we get into my room? Wasn’t I just at school? Why does he watch me sleep? How does he get into my house? My room? Oh my god, what if I farted? Why does he have superhuman good-looks? Could he possibly be a vampire that is hundreds of years old and be in love with me because I am the only person whose thoughts he cannot read? Can he not read my thoughts because of my serious brain disorder??

“What are you thinking, Twila?” Deadward probed deeply into my eyes; even though he stood 6ft away from me I could feel him as if he were an upright freezer directly in front of me. I grappled for something to say, should I tell him what I’m thinking or should I remain a mystery? I could forever enclose him in my diminutive density. My heart started to palpitate wildly and he gave me a hungry growl.

“How did you move so quickly? Why did you move so quickly? Are you afraid of me?” I tried to look as hurt as possible so he would fall for my charming witless forlorn. “I’m dangerous, Twila. I know I look like a babe but underneath this oasis of paradise I am nothing but evil. You should keep your distance from me.” Of course this made me want to have intercourse asap; my loins yearned to wrap the sculptured ice block of Deadward Sullen between my thin, uncellulited thighs. My insides would melt him into a puddle of flammable gas. He looked at me and licked his lips thirstily “did anyone ever tell you that you smell like Mountain Lion, Twila? I love mountain lions.” He slobbered so elegantly, like an angelic baby innocently sleeping. And then, like another switch had been…switched…Deadward was on me like a piano that just fell from a skyscraper, gnawing puppy-like on my arm. “Deadward,” I reprimanded jokingly, “so you are a vampire? That is funny because I’m not at all intimidated by you. I know I should be shaking with fear but instead let’s do it.” I winked at him and was taken aback by my intense confidence. Where did that come from? Why do my characteristics keep changing?

“Twila, I know we’ve only known each other for one hour but I know for a fact that I love you more than life itself. I’m as old as Rome and no other juvenile could fascinate my 84735447.8 year old soul like you do.” I felt faint, maybe because the only thing I’d ever eaten was a granola bar back on Saturday. It was delicious, Nature Valley, crumbling with oats and sugar. It broke to pieces inside my mouth in a fantastic splattering of granola goodness…

“TWILA!” I heard Deadward’s voice from a far away land and I realized that I must have actually passed out. Oops. “Sorry,” I muttered sleepily. “Thank you for saving me Deadward, I am such a moron. You’ll really need to be around to protect me from myself; I’ll need a lot of rescuing as I tend to make unwise choices because I’m just a girl.” I hung my head in demure relinquishment. Right then, out of nowhere, a vixen vampire with blood dripping from her fangs swooped through my window. I could tell she wasn’t there to borrow my Miley Cyrus CD. She wanted to feast on my blood! Deadward hunched in a pouncing pose and began making an animal-like rumble; I stared at him in dimwitted ineptitude, disbelieving what was now happening. Then he started to cough uncontrollably, I smacked him on the back so he could regain his menacing, foreboding stance. Then he was fine again, must have been some dried blood on the esophageal lining.

I looked back at the intruder who was hungry for my sweetly perfumed blood. Then I thought “I could take her.”

To Be Continued…

I am reading a book by Eric Weiner; The Geography of Bliss. The author travels to different cities around the world investigating levels of happiness. So far I have learned that Iceland and The Netherlands both are very happy places to live in. People here claim to have, for the most part, overall contentment. He does a fun job of explaining the atmosphere of the people and giving the reader a feel for why these people act this way.
In Switzerland it is illegal to flush your toilet after 10pm (according to this book anyway).
I’m not sure if this is a way to conserve water or to quiet the hysteria of midnight flushing–or what the consequence may be for rebellious flushers sinking their 1AM doodoo. Is this a crime the regional forces would come hunt you down for or is it something that causes your neighbor to have to give you ‘a look’?
Are there toilet police?
Also, I found out that one of the decisions that usually results in the most amount of satisfaction and happiness is …..breast implants.
I’m still not finished reading this. It has kept me occupied for days and is actually quite enjoyable. I like the statistics and little known facts and now I know that if I should decide to move to Iceland and get a boob job I probably won’t run into any depression.

How about you? Where were you when you were happiest?