Bird Deterrents To Scare Birds Away From Your Property

this is just for fun sorry if it’s a bit long

PREFACE:
I had always thought how I would die. I had ever since my cat, Mittens, got ran over by my dad’s hearse, on the way to my grandma’s funeral. I always thought my dad would kill me, though. He’s a freak.
The only problem was that I was actually looking across the room at another freak, and he looked back at me like the crazy shoppers staring at their items on Black Friday.
I mean, it was an okay way to go, in the spot of my crazy, cat-lady, PMS, eBay-addict mother, right? That oughtta count for something when I see the Big Man in the sky, right?
If I would have never gone to that dinky little run down hell hole called Chopsticks, I would be alive now, watching Pokemon on Saturday mornings. Even though I was scared shitless and had already peed myself, I was pretty good. When life gives you lemons, you take em, right? And you don’t cry until you get juice in your eye.
The freak show smiled like we were mall buddies and skipped towards to kill me.

CHAPTER ONE:
My mom was driving about 100 in the 50 MPH zone, but that wasn’t unusual. She couldn’t wait to get my albino butt out of the car so she could back to he honeymoon with Bill. Bill was cool, especially when he was drunk and with his friends playing Fantasy Baseball. Last year he actually let me drive his truck, which was now at the junk yard in about fifty pieces… yeah…
I had a Disney Princess backpack and a parka for my carry on items. My mom had thrown the parka at me while she sped off into the sunset, leaving me in my tank top and shorts. Why the hell did I need a parka if I was going to the warmest place in Washington? Chopsticks, population: small number… plus one.
Chopsticks used to be the coldest place ever, but Mom had told me something about Global Warming made it ten times hotter this summer, and that she didn’t want me to come back. I ignored the last part and boarded the plane.
Let’s just say the bitch lied. It was negative one thousand when the plane landed. I stood outside for half and hour waiting for my dad Marley to come while wearing the parka. He pulled up in his hearse, which attracted a lot of wandering eyes.
Marley Woodpecker is the local hearse-driver for Chopsticks, Washington. He’s pretty crazy, too. He always talks to the dead people, and swears that they talk back to him. I think he does drugs, but I’m not sure.
I looked over at him and saw him rolling up some weed. Naw, there still weren’t enough signs. “Hi, Mar—, uh, Daddy.” I stuttered. Ugh. My mom had made me promise not to call him Marley, and that I had to call him Daddy, for old time’s sake.
“Hiya, Izzy.” He said while taking a long drag. Still not enough evidence. At least he used my nickname…. My full name is Isabella Mary-Sue Woodpecker, but I liked being called Izzy.
We drove for about four hours talking about Bud Light, football, the Lakers, baseball, and weed. Me and Marley always talked about stuff like this. It was normal.
“So,” he sighed while taking a drag. “I got you a welcome home present.”
“Huh? What is it?”
“I’m givin’ you a car.”
“Uh-huh.” Marley was so freaking tight with money, this came as a shock. A car? That’s awesome. “What kind of car is it?” I added.
“It’s a good car. Made in 1970.”
“Ah,” I mumbled and we left it at that. When we pulled up into my dad’s driveway. It was a small house with about two windows: a crack house. It had three bedrooms and a basement that I wasn’t allowed in. Still, I doubted him and his drug use.
On the side of the street was a police car. Shit. They must have found his stash, if he had one. Marley got out of the car and I followed him to the police cruiser.
“There you go.”
“What?”
“Your car.” He motioned to the cruiser.
“Uh-huh.” I said and went to the house. Great, I got a police cruiser for a car. That would make good first impressions.
wow! thanks to everyone who answered! lol. I’m not done with it, actually. if i’m bored i
ll just write in it

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