This is a Twilight FanFiction, Cinderella Parody. There may be some points in time where the characters aren't the same as they are in the book.
Side effects of reading this story are: Uncontrollable laughter, hatred, blood seeping from eyes, vomit, narcolepsy, insomnia, depression, suicidal thoughts, death, explosive diarrhea, attraction to shiny objects, lycanthropic metamorphosis, urge to dance, urge to sing, sudden RickRolling, Kira-ism, lesions on the hands and neck area, and seizures.

Viewer discretion is advised.

My life has tumbled into a dark pit, Bella thought, dragging her under-sized duffel bag up the icy steps. For someone who happened to be moving across four states to live with her alcoholic father, she seemed to have only packed enough clothes for a week. Talk about wasting water.

She brushed her chocolate hair behind one pale ear, holding the broken screen door open with her hip. She looked back at Charlie, he father, who seemed to be struggling with a dead fir tree.

Bella sighed, slapping a dainty hand against her forehead. "Dad," she yelled, "would you please come and unlock the door."

"I don't lock the door," Charlie yelled back, using his unusual southern drawl. The guy had always lived in Washington—at least, for as long as Bella could remember—but he still sounded like a crazy, old hillbilly.

The seventeen-year old pushed the old wood door open, the smell of beer and dirty socks chocking her immediately. Cringing and covering her nose, she slowly made her way up the creaking stairs.

Upstairs was small, which wasn't surprising, due to the size of the house in general. There were two bedrooms and a small bathroom. Bella chose to go towards the bedroom on her left, as it didn't smell like a dead animal. Luckily, she chose correctly; she opened the door to a child's bedroom.

It was filled with terribly drawn pictures, old tests with big, red A's marked at the top, and various pictures of wolves. She looked at a few of the corkboards, covered in random pictures of a little brunette girl. She was smiling in one of them, a brown-haired woman and a cleanly shaved black-haired man standing on either side of her.

Bella glared at the photo, taking it down and throwing it into the wastebasket nearby. Charlie entered the room at that point, leaning against the white doorframe. "I cleared some room off of the shelves in the bathroom."

"Oh, right. Only one bathroom," Bella said in a monotone voice, clearly not happy to be in her father's home.

"I got you a new bed set," Charlie said, trying to make friendly conversation with the daughter he hadn't seen in years. "It should be…monster repellent."

"Dad, I'm seventeen. I don't believe in monsters."

Suddenly, a loud beeping noise came from outside, on the driveway. Charlie went downstairs, knowing who it was. Although, that didn't surprise Bella too much; the old horse probably didn't know many people. After waiting a few moments, she finally followed him down and outside.

There, in all its glory, stood the most beautiful thing that could ever have been created on Earth. That's what a destitute would say, anyway. Bella looked at the rusted red truck, wondering how anything of color could be available in a depressing town like Forks.

"Well, if it isn't the prince and his squire," Charlie said, strolling over to the two men who had gotten out of the truck. One of them was an elderly looking man, dark-skinned, dark-haired. He was also in a wheelchair. Obligatory cripple and Native American, anyone?

The boy next to him couldn't have been more than Bella's age. Long, black hair, slicked back into a perfect ponytail, the boy grinned from ear to ear, pointed canines glinting in the not-sun.

"I'm Prince Jacob," he said, bowing deeply and taking Bella's hand. She pulled it back, wiping it on her Levi jeans and gave him a repulsed look. Jacob blushed, standing back upright, and tried to look dignified.

"Did you bring the beer, Billy?" Charlie asked the crippled man, who seemed to be Jacob's assistant. Talk about switched roles.

"Right here," The squire said, hugging two six-packs to his chest. It was no wonder the house smelled like it had been marinated in alcohol; the old men had six beers for the each of them.

Jacob, seeming to find the craziness normal, patted the trunk of the automobile. "I fixed this up, just for you," he said, smiling again at Bella.

"You fixed this truck? For me?" The sincerity of it all flew right over her head, sensing that there had to be a catch to it all.

"Uh-huh," the prince said, running around to the passenger's seat. Bella caught the hint and entered the truck through the driver's side, looking over at Jacob, who was bouncing in his seat, as she settled in.

"It still needs a little work," he said, calming down a little, "but you can think of it as your carriage." He looked forward, smiling at the ice crystals forming on the windshield. "You can drive it to the Ball."

"There's a Ball?" Bella shouted, scaring away a few crows.

Oh my god, you made it through?! I-I mean...thank you for reading Chapter 1 of this new fanficiton. Please critic.

Twilight is (c) Sata--Stephanie Meyer

Satan