I kick the door of the trailer open with my foot and the sickly scent of weed hits me like a brick wall. I could never get used to it.

Arms full of grocery bags, I make my way to the kitchen area and drop them onto the cupboard with a bang.

My father sits up from his position on the couch, a joint between his lips.

"Ah Lila, Baby! You're back." He grins. "What's for dinner tonight?"

"Stir-fry rice." I reply in a monotone voice, pulling the ingredients from the paper bags.

"My favorite!" He pats himself on the stomach, slumping back down onto the couch.

I pull a pan out of the drawer and pour the rice into it, I bought the pre-cooked stuff because I really hadn't felt like boiling it tonight.

I always cooked for my father, not only did i refuse to eat the blackened food he always prepaired, but it gave me something to do during the day. I didnt really have many friends here in Woodsboro and I haven't gone out much since all of the killings had occurred a couple of years back.

The only reason I was making his favorite today was because I felt guilty. I had some very hard news to break and I thought it best to do it over a enjoyable meal- my father's heart is in his stomach, after all.

As I stir the bagged vegetables into the mix I stare at the small box television in the living room. My father was watching Psycho, his favorite horror film who's name I got from the main protagonist. He was a huge horror fan.

Surrounded by his favorite things, this would make the perfect opportunity to break the news.

I slide the finished Stir-fry onto some paper plates- I really didn't feel like doing dishes today- and carrying them to the couch.

My dad happily takes a plate, snuffing out his joint and using his round stomach as a table to eat. This is how most of our evenings went.

I lay my plate on my lap, turning my food over with a plastic fork. I examine my father, trying to gage his mood. He was a big man, with long stringy black hair and a disscheveled beard to match. He kept it out of his face with a paisley bandana tied around his forehead.

"Is something the matter, baby?" My father shoots me a look of concern.

"There is something I really need to talk to you about..." I mutter as I shove a forkfull of food in my mouth.

"What is it? You know you can tell me anything..." He sits up straight, laying his plate of food on the small make-shift coffee table.

"Are you gay? Because you know I'll love you either way right?" He lays a reassuring hand my on shoulder.

"No-no... that's not it..." I shake my head.

I look into his eyes, they are slightly blood shot but I know he is listening intently.

"I'm leaving..." I hold my breath, waiting for his reaction.

"What? Why? Where?" My father bombards me with questions.

"You know how I was saving up for college but I couldn't afford it?" I bite my lip. "Well mom agreed to put me through. I'll have to live on campus."

"Of course!" He rolled his eyes. "Your mother always has to step in a one-up me. I'll always be a failure of a parent."

My mother and father were separated. For years it was a constant battle between the two on who I had preferred to live with. It was always my father, because my mom was too much of a priss for me to handle. All she cared about was appearances and money- which she has a lot of. Whereas my father had always accepted me as I am and I could never ask for anything more.

Plus, I couldn't stand my mother's new husband. Just the thought of him sent a shiver up my spine.

"No, your not!" I wrap my arms around him in a tight hug. "You're not a perfect parent, but you've done more for me then she ever will."

Tears begin to roll down my father's cheeks and I wipe them away with my fingers.

"Do it..." He smiles. "Go make something of yourself, don't let me hold you back..."

"I dont want you to end up a dead-beat like me... playing guitar at a shitty dive bar down the road." He kisses my forehead. "You wanted to major in theatre arts right? So you can become a makeup artist and prop designer?"

I nod my head, he really does listen.

"Then go do it and rock it. You're going to blow through those classes like a piece of cake." He points to the movie that played on the television. "Any one day you're artwork will be on the big screen and I'll be able to look up and say: 'see that badass monster? My baby girl made that'."

As he speaks I can feel tears well up in my eyes. This was not the devastated reaction I had expected.

"But will you be okay... without me?" I ask.

"Probably not- but I'll manage." He jokes, letting me out of his embrace.

"I love you dad." I smile.

"I love you too." He smiles back at me. "Now go pack your things!"

He gives me a loving pat on the back as I run excitedly toward my room.

I dont have many things to pack, my room was extremely small containing only enough room for a twin sized bed and a small high boy dresser.

I pack my clothes as well as my sketchbooks into a large duffel bag. I was always drawing any chance that I got, doodling different character and prop design ideas- usually horror related ones- they were the most fun to draw because i could let my imagination run wild. Plus, when a character is meant to be ugly the design is a lot more forgiving of your mistakes.

I change into my pj's and jump into bed early, barely able to sleep with the excitement. Tomorrow, I'm off to college!

***

I look at myself in the small bathroom mirror as I brush my teeth. My hair was black like my father's, parted down the side with a blonde money piece I had dyed myself. My skin was pale and I wore my usual makeup look- a grungy black smokey eye and some dark red lipstick.

For clothing I picked out some torn skinny jeans, converse, a holey band t-shirt, a couple of studded belts on my waist and a red plaid button up on top. This was usually my go-to look. Causal but still kind of punky.

My toast pops in the kitchen and I run out to grab it, throwing my duffel bag over my shoulder on the way. As I shove it into my mouth I can hear the taxi outside blowing its horn. I give my dad one final goodbye hug and rush into the taxi.

Windsor college, here I come!

***

The driver shakes me awake, I had fallen to sleep on the way. I thank him and pay before stepping out of the taxi.

The school was huge and surrounded by students all crowding into the entrance. Words cannot describe my enthusiasm. I loved school as it were- I guess you could call me a bit of a nerd- but now going to school for something I was interested in made it so much more enjoyable.

I run to catch up to the crowd and suddenly I hear a voice call out from behind me.

"Hey Lila! What's up!?"

I turn to see who it was, the duffel bag on my shoulder swung and almost knocked a boy off of his feet. I apologized profusely before realizing it was-in fact- Randy Meeks that had called out to me.

He approaches me, Sidney Prescott by his side. He was one of my only friends in Woodsboro, we always had a heated debate every time I would run to the video store to rent another horror movie for my father for the thousandth time. Sometimes we would hang out after school for movie marathons, but our relationship became distant after the Woodsboro massacre. I went outside a lot less once I had graduated highschool.

He pulls me into a tight hug and once he lets go Sidney jumps in for one as well.

"We're going to be going to the same college, that's awesome!" Sidney grins.

"It is!" I clap my hands together. "It makes me feel a lot less nervous to see some familiar faces."

Randy grins, wrapping an arm around mine and Sidneys shoulders. They lead me to the office to get my room key.

"You should go get settled into your dorm, class starts at 8!"

I glance down at my watch, it's 7:40am. I only have 20 minutes. I panic, shouting 'see you later!' Before running like a maniac through the halls. I the last thing I want to do is make a bad impression on my first day.

I run with a bit of a hobble, the large bag weighing down my left shoulder. As I'm about to run out the entrance I run into somebody, almost knocking them over once again.

The impact causes the zipper to burst on my over filled bag and my belongings fall out and slide across the linoleum floor.

"Oh my God! Shit! I'm so sorry!" I apologize for the second time in the last half hour.

I fall to my knees and start haphazardly shoving everything back into my bag. The guy I had hit kneels to my level. He had warm brown hair and dark eyes.

"It's alright. Do you need a hand?" He smiles, his teeth perfectly in line. I would be lying if I said he wasn't attractive.

"No-no it's fine, I got it!" I shove the last thing into my bag before jumping to my feet once again.

"I gotta go!" I shout before turning around on my heels and running in the direction of my dormitory.

When I get to my room I toss my bag onto the unoccupied bed. The other half of the room was organized and cutely decorated. In between both beds was a communal computer and desk that separated our spaces.

I dig into my bag for my pencils and composition books before running back where I had started to attend class.