+Quilt Patches*

AN: Quick thing-This story will almost always-if not always-be in our favorite Goth's point of view~

Summary: Well, I have a psychotic sister, an insanely abnormal part of me that I don't exactly love, someone who distracts me from my life as well as his painfully honest cousin, and a clique that's determined to ruin me and my sister's social life. Ah, life is amazing, isn't it?

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Total Drama, nor the idea of Total Drama in general. It's not like TD's going to be mentioned in this story, but as a formality~

~*Gwen's P.O.V*~

Y'know, after hours of listening, Shuffle really starts to lose it's appeal. As of now, I've heard one song…thirty-two times. After thirty-one times of one song, you'd think I'd want to cry on number thirty-two.

But it's better than listening to Izzy yap non-stop.

WAY better.

I find myself daydreaming about some ultra-smart scientist installing a permanent mute button on the little nut. What I wouldn't give to shut my "sister" up for good….Maybe I shouldn't word it that way, exactly. Hmm.

Sometimes I wish my mom hadn't adopted the psycho all those years ago. I always view it as a huge, irreversible mistake. VERY huge, and thank to Mom, VERY irreversible.

"Hey, Gwen! Since New York's the Big Apple, Izzy's gonna plant the BIGGEST apple tree and harvest the BIGGEST apple ever! Izzy'll need some help, though. The unicorns are already planning, but…You think you could help?" I feel no guilt when I say I listened to nothing dear Izadora just said. None whatsoever. She should feel guilty, actually. Killing me with her nonsensical…ness.

"Sure, Izzy, whatever." I catch my mom's eye via mirror and shut up. Ah, Saint Scarlett. My mother, the embodiment of wholesome goodness. Here I am, the embodiment of DARK. At least, that's what the oh-so-angelic (and skankalicious) cheerleaders say about me. But honestly, I don't give a flying…Never mind. But with teal streaks in my dark hair, dark eyes, dark outfits, dark music, dark make-up-Yeah, you know where this is going. I'm a Grade-A Goth, if you live off of labels.

"Izzy, what're you doing?" The nutty little redhead is leaning over me, reaching her hand out of the open window.

Idiot.

"Testing Gwen's air! Y'see, it's chilly on Izzy's side. So I'm testing the climate of Gwen's air, to see if it's better so Izzy doesn't have to freeze on her side!" Oh yeah, because EVERY sixteen year old girl is worried about the temperature of her breeze…Oh, nope, that's just my alien sister.

Maybe having her freeze wouldn't be so bad.

"Izzy, honey, maybe you should lean back to your side."

"Yeah, the wind my snatch your skinny little arm right outta the window," I say, earning a disapproving look from Saint Scarlett. Unfortunately, this comment only excites the basket case.

"Aw, cool! Does Gwen think Izzy's blood would splatter over that Mustang's windshield? Or would it boomerang back to us?" I roll my eyes and say,

"Both." Izzy nods, satisfied for the moments, and finally moves back to her side.

And this is the girl who gets higher grades than me.

It's two in the morning now. Izzy fell asleep two hours ago, and now-sadly-she's wide awake again when I'm trying to sleep.

"Hey, Gwen? Gwen? Gwenny?"

"What?" I harshly whisper. She smiles, which only pisses me off. Does she think it's saint-like to prevent someone from going to sleep?

Well, it isn't. At all.

Although I can't blame all of my lack of sleep on Izzy, it seems better. I've barely been able to sleep since last Thursday, which also served as my birthday. It takes hours of me tossing and turning until I drift off to Dreamworld. Or La-La-Land. Or…Oh, whatever, until I can get to sleep.

"Izzy's name isn't Izzy anymore~"

"Really," I mutter, honestly not caring enough to ask why.

"Nope. It's Kaleidoscope!" Now I pay attention. Kaleidoscope? I have to go to a new school with a sister named Kaleidoscope now?

Isn't it bad enough that Izzy acts the way she does?

Can't I ever get a break with her?

"You're psycho," I whisper.

"Hmm?"

"Nothing." For some reason, I can never tell Izzy what I really, really think about her. Ever. She turns to the window, rambling on about the plants. She's been doing that a lot lately. When I'm positive that Izzy's fully occupied, I flip open my notebook until I come across what I want.

-WhAt MAKeS IzZy SO weIRD-

Yeah, I have a five page list on weird things my adopted sister has done. Not so normal, huh?

Well, Izzy isn't, either.

So hah.

I quickly jot down the newest reason, right underneath "She scratches her ear with her freaking foot. Play dead, Izzy." That may have been on a day where I was quite angry. If the damn girl had kept her crap out of my room, I may not have been at that cruel-attitude point. Yet. I notice Izzy turning around and slap the notebook shut, sticking it under my leg as she faces me.

"Good morning, Gwen~" Before I can ask the girl just what she means, she somehow pulls her legs close to her chest, despite the seatbelt in her way, and jumps on the train to La-La-Land. Yeah, I like that one.

Maybe the train will get stuck.

Or Izzy will find my list.

Or Izzy will wake up.

God only knows which one is the worst.

It's ten in the morning, and Izzy is zipping through the aisles of a convenience store. Saint Scarlett is out in the car, either rummaging through the moving trailer of crap or snoring away. At least she isn't in here, living though what I like to call "Izzy's Humiliating Hell".

Apparently, that's my job, void of pay.

Wonderful occupation.

"Hey, Gwen! E-Scope's happy to almost be there! Just like you!" I stop scanning the candy to stare at the redhead grinning happily at me.

"Huh?" I never told her I was happy. I hadn't smiled or said anything. Despite the fact that I was kind of happy to be close to our destination: Insanely busy, crowded, bustling New York City. Not for those specific reasons. But I didn't want Izzy to know that. She's the happy one. NOT me.

"E-Scope senses your happiness!~" Once she says this, I shrug it off and continue what I was doing. Should have known.

"That's nice, Iz." I ignore the pout she now wears since I didn't call her 'Kaleidoscope'. If she had some kind of mental disorder or something, I'd understand. But according to doctors she's claimed to have seen, the chick is mentally healthy.

What crack doctors did she "see"?

I hang around the candy aisle a little longer as Izzy cartwheels her way to the bathroom…Hmm. Maybe a Twix will be enough to save me from going insane? Yeah. Let's try that.

Twelve in the afternoon. I have this insane, yet not unfamiliar burning in my throat. Chloraseptic? Pfft, that really helps. Mom keeps giving me this super-sweet red liquid that really does, non-sarcastically, help, so I'm laying off the attitude to give her a break.

"All right, girls! We're here!" Izzy hurriedly snatches off her seatbelt and jumps outside, quick to inhale the scent of city-People, fumes, and hot dog stands. She's twirling around the front of our new residence with pure happiness. I get out much calmer, because what Goth perkily greets their new home with, "OMG, I'm SOOOO happy! I'm, like, gonna paint my room bubblegum pink and, like, plaster pictures of GOREGOUS guys and diet plans on my bubblegum pink walls! EEEE!"

Exactly. You meet someone like that, though, let me know. I'll be sure to avoid them. I've already got ONE psycho.

Izzy prances around all dainty and fairy-like. Not much of a stretch. Not like she isn't a fairy or anything…Oh, right. Izzy's a fairy-human hybrid...thing. I am a vampire-human hybrid...thing. Yeah, yeah-The Goth's a vampire! Shut up. I already figured that out. I also figured out that when I hit eighteen, I no longer age. Useful, I guess. Anyway, New York City's where we're supposed to be living in safety and security. Forgot about those minor details.

My bad.

AN: And that's that for chapter one. Sorry if someone seems OOC, really sorry! I know, you've seen eighty thousand stories where Gwen's a vampire and junk, but…Well, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em! Sorry if the story reads weird, the way I have the font and stuff. So, so sorry! I just have a lot of emphasis on Gwen's words, I guess, and it's the best way to say something when you can't hear someone actually say it. Hah, anyhow, feel free to review~ I don't mind. ;) Oh, and if you kind of got lost when I mentioned Saint Scarlett, that's Gwen's nickname for her mother. And I know, Gwen seems a bit mean towards Izzy, but can you blame her? It's not like Izzy really can tell, anyway...I'll shut up now.