Author's note: Any changes in character are intentional, particularly for Gwen. I do, however, tend to put some rationale behind anything that is different. Important to note, however, are that I, essentially, only acknowledge Gwen as having been onTotal Drama Island (i.e. the first season of the show), despite referencing the other seasons, and other than one simple little thing, I completely ignore the Beetlejuice animated series.


I am alone.

*Scratch*

I am utterly alone. By the time you have read this, I will be gone, having jumped off-

*Scratch*

-plummeted off the Winter River Bridge.

"No. Why am I writing that?" Lydia asked herself as she crumbled her masterpiece. "After all that happened, there's no way I'm committing suicide. Much as I want to."

Lydia sat staring at the blank sheet of paper in front of her. "Blank as my existence. As usual, anything I do about it ends in failure."

Lydia continued gazing into the abyss that is the paper…


Lydia woke at her desk, with the paper plastered to her head substituting as her pillow. Her mascara was streaked down her cheeks toward the paper, creating a swirled portrait of abstract art. Lydia smiled for the first time since she could remember.

"I can't believe this," said Lydia. "This is beautiful."

There was a knock on her door. Lydia stood up slowly, feeling achy, as if her depression had worn her physically, and opened the door.

"Good morning, Lydia," said the Maitlands, all smiles, sunshine glowing in behind them. Lydia was blinded by this light, having enveloped herself in a near darkness through the night, only a bleak shine glowing through her blinds. "It's always so dark in here anymore."

"Can you please close the door?" asked Lydia.

"Can we bring in your breakfast?" asked Barbara.

Lydia nodded her head as she stumbled into her desk chair. She looked in the mirror and saw a mixture of beauty and horror, just as she, and recently most everyone, saw her. Except most simply saw the horror.

"You don't look so good, Lydia," said Adam.

"I never do," said Lydia.

"Oh, Lydia," said Barbara, lightly gripping Lydia's shoulder. "I know you've been having a hard time lately getting along with the other girls at school. But you are a pretty young girl."

Lydia looked down at her accidental artistry and smiled. She picked up the smeared piece of paper and said, "I love this. This says more than I can say in words about how I feel. I didn't even mean to do it."

"Well, it sure doesn't indicate suicide," said Adam, having opened the crumbled piece of paper on the floor.

Lydia turned around in shock. "No, I didn't really mean that. It was just a bad thought I had."

"That still makes me too worried about you now, Lydia," said Adam.

"Right. We hate seeing you sad, but now that you teased that in your mind again, we can't help but think about helping you more," said Barbara.

"Please, just forget it," said Lydia, hiding her face in her arms on her desk.

"Do you mind if you at least hear us out?" asked Adam.

"I already know what happens to people who commit suicide, you told me before," said Lydia.

"It's not that, Lydia," said Adam. "We just want to give you ideas on what could help you feel better."

"They won't work," said Lydia. "Nothing ever has. Everything that was ever good turned out bad. Life just sucks and then we die. You two should know."

"We were never unhappy, Lydia," said Barbara. "We'll admit how we died was unfortunate and we would've rather not died that way, but we were happy with each other and what we had, and still have."

"Each other," said Lydia. "I'm just alone and always will be. Like I said before, I'm strange and unusual."

"Maybe that's what you need, Lydia, is company. Like yourself," said Adam.

"There's no one else like me," said Lydia.

"We're not saying meet someone exactly like you," said Barbara. "You are unique and that's what we love most about you, Lydia. But I'm pretty sure you're not alone in how you feel and what you're interested in."

"Right. There's probably a group out there that gets together you could get into," said Adam. "We could maybe find one. We'll find somebody."

"I don't want to meet anybody and I don't want help," said Lydia.

Barbara picked up Lydia's artwork and said, "Wouldn't you love to show this to someone?"

Lydia peered into the mascara-smeared paper again, and back to the smiling Maitlands.


Lydia had indeed discovered a group which piqued her interest, a gathering of goths from the surrounding area. Lydia decided to wear her usual black for this gathering instead of anything flashy, something to be saved for when she became more comfortable with the group and to see if that would be an acceptable practice. She also decided to wear her veil over her hat, and ride her bike to the meeting despite the distance.

When Lydia arrived, several other people were already sitting around chatting. Lydia cautiously entered the room, and nobody paid her much mind. Lydia sat in the chair closest to her, her muscles still tense from not just the bike ride, but from the presence of strangers.

Like Lydia, though, most of them wore an array of black, with some variation. The person with the most color was a young woman wearing clothing intermixed with half black and half green, with skin approximately as pale as Lydia's. Lydia's muscles relaxed after a short period of observing the mishmash of activity in the room.

Then, she tensed again as the woman in green approached her. She said, "I haven't seen you before. What's your name?"

"Lydia."

"I'm Gwen. It's nice to meet you."

Lydia smirked and said, "I suppose it's nice meeting you, too."

"You seem shy, hiding your face like that," said Gwen. "I didn't hope to scare you, but that's why I came to you, maybe help ease you."

Lydia's smirk turned back to her usual frown as she looked down and said, "I don't talk to many people."

"That's okay. You don't have to talk much here, either," said Gwen.

"I don't mind talking," said Lydia. "I just don't do it much."

"Cool," said Gwen, as she pulled a chair near and sat down, facing Lydia. "I'd sure love to see your face."

"It's kind of hard for me to look at people when I speak," said Lydia.

"Can I see what you have in your hands then?" asked Gwen, pointing to the piece of paper crumbled in Lydia's tight grasp.

"I'm not sure if you'll like it," said Lydia as she unfolded the paper slowly and, once opened, presented the accidental work of art to Gwen.

"That's pretty neat," said Gwen, smiling. "What is that?"

"It's actually my mascara," said Lydia. "It was an accident, but I thought it represented how I felt more than I can say in words."

"How did the mascara get there by accident?" asked Gwen, frowning.

"It's kind of embarrassing," said Lydia, crumbling the paper back into her hands. "I don't know if I want to say."

"Were you sad?" asked Gwen. "I'd like to know why you're sad, but I think you should know something. In fact, I think we should head back outside. I hope you don't mind."

"Why?" asked Lydia. "I rode my bike all the way here."

"You'll still want to come with me. I'm sorry. Maybe we'll come back in depending on how you feel after what I need to say." Gwen leaped out of her chair and extended a hand to Lydia. Lydia also stood, slowly, but did not grab Gwen's hand as she followed Gwen outside.


Elsewhere in the room, two men noticed Lydia and Gwen leaving. One, pointing and snickering, said, "There she goes again."

"Who?"

"That girl with all the green shit. You know who. She went out with another girl."

"So what?"

"I've just noticed she's been doing that with girls more lately."

"It's none of our business."

"Sure, I just find it kind of funny."

"Whatever."

"Who was that other girl anyway? Never seen her before."

"I don't know and I'm not sure if I care. They're not forced to stay here so just leave it alone. As long as they're happy."

"I suppose I can agree to that."


Gwen led Lydia to a restaurant not far from the meeting room. The restaurant was as bare-bones as a restaurant could be, which made Gwen and Lydia stick out even more than they had in the group they coagulated in before. The menu also had the usual restaurant foods; Gwen ordered a milkshake and Lydia ordered a salad.

"I at least wanted to bring you inside a place where it's cool," said Gwen. "Didn't want you to get hot in that outfit."

Lydia looked up at Gwen briefly, and said, "I'm not used to people caring about me like that."

"That kind of leads me into what I wanted to tell you," said Gwen. "That group isn't quite what I think you wanted. It's a group of goths."

"That's what I was wanting to go to," said Lydia.

"They probably wouldn't have liked you, though," said Gwen. "They hate people who they think are emo. I don't mind it at all, but you seemed to be close enough to that so I felt the need to get you out of there before anything bad happened."

Lydia sat in stunned silence, unable to say anything in response. She slumped forward with her right hand on her head and tears flowed from her eyes.

"I'm really sorry, Lydia," said Gwen. "It's like you said, though. I did it because I care. I hope you can forgive me."

Despite the compliments, Lydia was unable to stop crying, but was able to control herself enough to speak again. "I guess I'm glad you did, actually," said Lydia. "Thank you."

"Would you still like to be friends with me at least?" asked Gwen. "I'll accept you for who you are."

Lydia looked up at Gwen, mascara streaking down her face in a pattern reminiscent of lightning. "You really want to be my friend? Why? What have I done for you?"

"It doesn't matter what you do for me," said Gwen. "You don't have to do anything for me. I just hate to see you sad, and I want to make you happy."

Lydia continued looking at Gwen, with her mouth stuck in between a smile and a frown.

"I like the way you look at me," said Gwen. "Can I see your face?"

"I guess," said Lydia, as she slowly removed not just her veil, but her hat, revealing all of her head for Gwen's eyes to behold. Gwen's eyes widened as she stared at Lydia, with her mouth agape. Lydia looked down again, her cheeks reddening.

"Why do you hide such a beautiful face?"

"I don't know," said Lydia. "I didn't know it was beautiful."

"Have you ever thought about that?"

"No," said Lydia. "Not much that's positive in my life, so it never crossed my mind."

"What is positive in your life?"

Lydia visibly pondered for a few moments, and Gwen waited patiently, content with staring at Lydia as Lydia shifted awkwardly in her seat. "I guess there's the Maitlands," said Lydia. "You wouldn't believe anything I say about them, though."

"You can tell me anyway," said Gwen. "I won't mind."

"You might not want to be my friend any more, though," said Lydia.

"How about if you hear something about me first, then," said Gwen. "I've been through some strange ordeals, too. Kind of comes with being strange and unusual."

Lydia perked up and looked straight into Gwen's eyes. Lydia just continued staring as Gwen started with, "I was on a reality show once."

"Really?" asked Lydia. "I don't watch much TV. Which one?"

"It was called Total Drama Island," said Gwen. "I was in a phase where I just wanted to be on TV to help show people what a real goth was like. Didn't end up that way."

"What happened?"

"The show wasn't actually reality. It was just set up in that way, hence my not entirely being my usual self. They had me paired up with a guy, too, and only because he was 'weird,' too. The guy was punk so we didn't actually have that much in common other than we weren't like everyone else there. Turned out to be a parody of that dumb Survivor show, which just made the end result worse. Once the season was over, they wanted me back, but they were wanting me to be with another guy this time, one who wasn't even close to being in the same ballpark this time, so I told them to go fuck themselves. Since I did that, however, the problem was they had me win the show, but had to film an alternate version where I lost. Hated the whole experience."

"How did you even get on TV, though?" asked Lydia.

"Because of the way I look," said Gwen. "I guess I was the prettiest girl they found of all the goths and such. They wanted someone weird but presentable, so they found me. I mean, I was searching for a spotlight, too, but they found me as I was looking for something."

"I guess you are pretty," Lydia mumbled.

"Thank you," said Gwen, smiling.

Lydia's eyes zoomed around in confusion as she nearly stumbled in her words. "Did I really just say that?" Lydia then planted her head on the table. "I am so sorry."

Gwen laughed and said, "Hey, come on, I liked that you said that. I'm glad to hear it. That made me feel good."

"I still feel bad."

"You feel bad about making me feel good?"

Lydia lifted her head from the table, still unable to look at Gwen. "I don't even know how to feel about it, actually. I guess I've just been sad so long it's hard to gauge some of my emotions."

"You mentioned some people, though," said Gwen. "What was it, the Maitlands?"

"Yeah," said Lydia. "I still like them. They've never done anything wrong. They always try to help me. But the thing is they're dead."

"I'm sorry to hear that," said Gwen, her arms lightly reaching out toward Lydia on the table. "So that's why you're sad?"

"No," said Lydia. "I still see the Maitlands. They're ghosts."

Lydia paused, waiting for Gwen's reaction. Gwen's expression was the same stare in fascination at Lydia. Lydia, though she hadn't looked at Gwen much, noticed Gwen hadn't seemed to have taken her eyes off Lydia.

"You can continue," said Gwen. "I want to hear more."

"Really? You don't think it's weird?"

"I think it's cool!" said Gwen, perking herself up more. "Are you actually able to see them as ghosts or anything?"

"Wait," said Lydia, leaning forward and looking up at Gwen. "You're not questioning me?"

"I just want to hear what you have to say," said Gwen. "I don't care if it's real or not."

Lydia smiled and continued, "My parents and I moved into their house after they died. They tried to frighten us to get us out since they worked so hard on that house, but they took a liking to me since I could see and communicate with them. So I guess they compromised. Well, they compromised after a bunch of weird stuff happened. There was one guy I'm never going to forget and I'm not even going to say his name. Hated him. Never want to see him again. Only agreed to marry him so he could help save the Maitlands from an exorcism ritual, but he was nasty and I didn't think it would nearly ruin my life."

"Marry him? Just to save people you care about? That's heavy."

"I really hate that I did that. Just made things more complicated since they had to save me afterward."

"Is that why you're sad?"

"No," said Lydia, who stopped looking at Gwen again. "Mostly school stuff afterward. I was fine for a little while after that whole incident, but some time after starting school the other girls started attacking me because of how strange I am. Got bad enough to a point where I was back to how I felt before meeting the Maitlands. Just been alone otherwise."

"Not with me, though, right?"

"I guess."

"At least I'm not that one guy you hate," said Gwen, scrunching down so she could look into Lydia's face again.

Lydia looked at Gwen and said, "I would rather be with you than him."

"Would you like to be with me?" asked Gwen, swiftly perking up again, smiling brightly, her eyes nearly sparkling.

Lydia hid her face behind her hands, and through her hands said, "Why did I even say that?"

"I'm guessing you don't like girls," said Gwen.

Lydia, her face still darkened by her own hands, slowly parted her fingers as light shone in on her eyes. "I don't know."

"Maybe that's why you're sad," said Gwen. "But I'll let you think about it. You want some time? I can wait."

"I don't even know what I want to do," said Lydia.

"Do you get to choose what you do often?" asked Gwen. "Or do you often feel like you can't choose even when you can?"

"This is a weird conversation," said Lydia.

Gwen burst out laughing. "I guess it is." Gwen settled her fit of laughter and extended her right arm out, her hand set in an inviting posture, and said, "I actually hope you decide to be my girlfriend. I really like you and I think you're one of the prettiest girls I've met."

Lydia bunched herself almost into a ball in her seat, her embarrassment crushing her ability to answer.

"I'm sorry if I'm making you feel bad or anything," said Gwen. "I just want to make you happy."

Lydia slowly came undone and sat up again, but still unable to look at Gwen. "I don't know. I guess I'll think about it. I probably will think about it whether I want to or not."

"Cool," said Gwen. "I still hope you say yes, but I'll let you think about it."

"Was that why you dragged me away from the meeting?" asked Lydia.

"I guess that was part of it," said Gwen, smirking. "But I also did truly know that group wouldn't have treated you good. Not as good as I would treat you."

Lydia looked up at Gwen and smiled. This time she continued to look at Gwen…


Once Lydia arrived home, her parents ("technically one parent" as Lydia often points out) stopped her, asking why she was out so long.

"We started to worry about you," said Charles, her father. "Did you have any fun?"

"I only met one girl there," said Lydia. "She just pulled me out because she said they wouldn't like me. She was real nice to me."

"So you have a friend now?" asked Delia, her step-mother. "That's pretty impressive for you."

"I guess I do," said Lydia. "But all that talking and bike riding made me pretty tired so I'm going to go take a nap," said Lydia, as she proceeded upstairs to her room.

Charles and Delia looked at each other, and after a short pause Delia said, "You remember our bet, right?"

"What be- oh, right!" said Charles, bringing his palm to his forehead. "That was a couple years ago. What was the amount again?"

Delia turned and thought for a moment and said, "You know, I don't remember, either. Whatever, forget the money, I don't care about that. I just want to be able to say to your face I was right this whole time."

"How could you possibly know?" asked Charles. "There's no way to know until she actually goes through with it."

"Just my intuition," said Delia.


Lydia also spotted the Maitlands along the way to her bedroom. "I would like to talk, but I'm pretty tired after all the talking and bike-riding," said Lydia, slumping, fatigued, this time not due to her depression.

"Did you at least have a good time?" asked Adam.

"I guess," said Lydia. "This girl pulled me away from the group and I pretty much just made friends with her I guess. She said the people there wouldn't like me, but she sure did. A lot."

"That's good you at least found someone you can get along with. Hope you get to see her again," said Adam.

"I guess," said Lydia. "But like I said, I'm tired."

"That's okay. We can talk more later," said Barbara, moving and extending her hand outward toward Lydia's bedroom. "Enjoy your nap."

"Thanks," said Lydia.

The Maitlands looked after Lydia as she shuffled off to bed. "She sure emphasized that girl liking her," said Adam.

Barbara smiled and said, "Oh you and your silly ideas."

"Well, who knows," said Adam. "If that goes anywhere, you know, that's just even better for her, I think."

"I guess you could be right about that," said Barbara. "But how about we just think about us now, hm?"


Lydia, once in bed, though tired, was unable to sleep. She, not surprisingly, couldn't help but think about Gwen. Lydia had never thought about being with anyone let alone another girl, but since she simply hadn't considered the fact, she was drawn to the idea now, knowing it was a possibility. She felt, in any case, she had to know.

Lydia thought about how nice Gwen was to her, first and foremost. Lydia's cheeks reddened just at the thought of being complimented. But Lydia was surprised to find herself being complimentary in return. Was she just unable to control what she said, or did she show how she really felt, even if it was on accident? Lydia, deep down, regardless of whether she wanted to be Gwen's girlfriend, did like her enough to befriend her. That much she admitted.

Slowly, but surely, however, Lydia was drawn to Gwen's physical features. Lydia definitely liked Gwen's sense of style, the green flowing with and around the black she wore, all enveloping her shiny, soft, pale skin. Lydia, without thinking, felt and rubbed her own skin while thinking about Gwen's skin. Lydia also thought about dyeing her own hair in different colors, but decided against that. Maybe some day, but she liked that Gwen was unique in that sense, that Gwen's hair was so different from her own, besides its base color.

But Lydia was then drawn to little things about Gwen. The way Gwen walked with confidence, the way her lips parted as she opened her mouth, how her skirt twirled with her and bristled in the wind, the way her chest heaved as she let in a deep breath. Lydia thought particularly about her skirt, wondering if she looked enough if she would be able to see what was under Gwen's skirt. Lydia's legs mashed together at the thought, and she crunched her knees up to her chest, as she slowly drifted off to sleep, with one last thought digging into her dream state.

The way in which Gwen smiled and stared at Lydia.