Lizard's Sparkle

chapter 1

So I was gonna wait until I'd done more than one chapter but then I thought sod it just post it so here you go :)

Hayley.

So, my dad was a big, naked, creepy, elf.

Not exactly what I'd expected when I'd imagined finding and meeting my father. There had been more apologies for a start, you know, like 'sorry I missed all your birthdays', or 'sorry I couldn't be there when you were in that school play that one time and fell off the stage because you got dazzled by your own sparkles.'

Which incidentally had officially been the day that I'd given Serena the Best friend for life title. I mean, obviously she'd laughed and pointed like everyone else, it was Serena after all, but she'd also turned murderous eyes on all the other little witches for daring to laugh at her best friend, because, she might be able to take the piss, but no one else could.

She was cute like that.

No, when I'd had fantasies of meeting the man that had assisted in my creation, at no point had I imagined what I'd finally been presented with.

An oily, arrogant, leader of his own personal dirty hareem.

I feel a little let-down by the Goddess to be honest, I mean, I appreciate being born and all, but...really? This guy?

As I packed essentials for our little trip to the elf realm - potions, lotions, and of course sparkly underwear because no one wants to be caught without spare panties in a whole other realm - I thought about the life that I'd had without the man I now had to call my father.

I hadn't missed him to be honest, kind of hard to miss what you didn't remember, and if I'd ever met him before I certainly hadn't been old enough for him to leave a lasting impression on me. But I certainly hadn't missed being one of the only few children in the West Coast without a father and you can be sure that some of the other little kids hadn't let me forget that fact either.

Witch bitches were mean.

Of course my first eight years of life had been single parent stigma - as if I was somehow lacking because I was missing the person that had impregnated my mother. After my birth mother's death from an unfortunate sail and subsequent fiery crash landing off the edge of a precarious mountain pass, I had totally one upped all the little bitches in spell school. I'd left with one mother and come back with two, shoving their faces in the fact that I may be missing a father, but I'd just doubled their mother quota, even if said mothers were mostly the free-love, acid-high, inappropriately naked kind of parents.

They may have flashed nip to most of my peers, but they also made damn sure that no one messed with their little blonde sparkly witch, because no one could make a kid cry quite like two lesbians with synchronised PMS - the rage was always instant and excessive.

I'd seen them coming from a mile away, and not just because they were glaringly shameless with a free for all vagina show, but also because I'd literally seen them coming for years before the fateful day that had killed my birth mother.

I have to confess that I'd had moments in my young life when I'd thought I'd gone a little mad. I mean I'd literally known my mother would die years before she'd taken that freefall so I hadn't been exactly surprised when the Council had shown up on my doorstep with sad and consoling expressions. As horrible as that day was, it was also affirmation that I wasn't one of those kids - You know the creepy ones that go all village of the damned on the adult population and have to be rounded up by a torch wielding mob and locked away in institutions that have strict rules against things like hairbrushes and anything on the colour wheel past white and grey. I don't think I could have survived without colour, it's kind of necessary to my sanity - most of my vision is edged in hues of the rainbow anyway so it's kind of important to reflect that in my clothing choices.