Dear Isabeau,
People are so nice. I've already got reviews and favorites and everything. It made my day…=)
Mucho Gracias to Imagi and allygirl56 for adding Dear Isabeau, to their Story Alert subscription.
Merci beaucoup to Athulis, xXErineilXx, and Skull and Bones for adding Dear Isabeau, to their Favorite Stories list.
謝 to Athulis for adding me to their Author Alert subscription.
Πολλές Ευχαριστίες to Athulis and The American Writer for adding me to their Favorite Authors list.
Reviews: (!)
To Athulis: Believe me, I don't plan on stopping any time soon…unless, like, a freak meteorite hits the earth and kill us all. If that happened, my story might be put on HIATUS for a while. =O
To allygirl56: Yeah, the bolded parts of the letter are supposed to be the stuff he crossed out. My computer screwed up, and the parts were crossed out turned bolded. Oh well. You understood what I meant to do. =)
To xXErineilXx: I know exactly what you mean. I do somewhat like DXC stories, but some of these stories are pretty obsessive. And I'll keep writing, if only because of the sugar. I like sugar! =D
"I said I don't want to respond to it!" the redhead growled in a voice that would have caused most sane people to back up. "I refuse to answer him. I refuse to read it!"
"Miss Winters, your fellow contestant –"
"Ex-contestant, you mean. And don't call me Miss Winters. You don't want to know what happened to the last guy to do that."
"Actually, it says right here in your contract that you are considered a contestant and must compete in future competitions until the Total Drama Agency sees fit to nullify your contract."
She just groaned, "No way."
"'As is understandable by the contest, the Total Drama Agency, yourself, your lawyer… you shall be permitted to be called back to compete…in more of the reality television shows, series of the original Total Drama Island…and until the Total Drama Agency sees fit to cancel out your contract, you shall be a contestant and camper…until you reach the age of 18.'" The RCMP Guardian quoted.
"They can't do that!"
"They can and they will."
The redhead started rocking back and forth from her seat, perched at the entrance to her (tree) house, about 10 feet above the ground.
"As I was saying, Miss Winters, if he has written you a letter, no matter how poorly –"
"Watch what you, wait, never mind…" Izzy stopped, realizing she was about to defend him.
"You should at least see what it says. You never know what it could say; maybe it's about the next season of Total Drama."
"I said no!" Izzy cackled evilly and grabbed her nearby vine. Stile grinning, ther redhead swung on the vine (Tarzan would be proud) and leaped off behind her guardian.
"Wait, Miss Winters! I'm responsible for you!" he sighed and pulled out his cell phone, about to contact the RCMP headquarters that his burden had escaped again. "I hate it when she does that."
Izzy, however, had to intention of being caught again. By the time her Guardian had finished getting yelled at (again) by the RCMP, she was already off her estates at skipping down the road. She mimicked holding a shotgun in her hand and started shooting at random cars passing by. When someone honked at her, she bowed and shouted, "Your welcome! Come again!"
That was on the outside, her usual crazy self. On the inside, she was trying to figure out why she acted like so. Sure, she was pissed that she didn't win, but why would she be so openly hateful to the letter from poor Homeschool? What he'd ever do to her?
Finally, Izzy connected the pieces. Everything clicked into place, revealing the bigger picture, just like those jigsaw puzzles everyone did as a child. Homeschool's only fault was one that she couldn't forgive and forget. He underestimated her. Just like her parents had underestimated her. It was because of that, and Izzy's unnatural bad luck, that caused the Accident.
Izzy shivered. Just the thought of the Accident caused her heart to ache with the pain that only comes from the death of loved ones.
It was just an innocent comment or two (well, not quiet innocent) made by Homeschool. Yet, the words had a deeper meaning to Izzy than any of the other girls. Courtney, Eva, Bridgette, they were all mad that Homeschool thought guys were better than girls. To Izzy, she was furious because the last time someone had underestimated her, she had killed two people she loved.
Izzy could remember every part of that night, of that nightmare. From the smell of champagne and rich perfume, to the feel of the soft velvety carpet underneath her bare feet…
The clock showed it was 11:55, but the party looked like it had no intention of stopping soon. Everywhere you looked, you would see elegant women with beautiful flowers and expensive dresses, or tall men dressed in smart-looking black tuxedos. The chandelier swayed overhead, the glittering crystals chiming together. The delicate laughter echoed around the large room. Everyone was so caught up in meeting famous and influential people that they didn't notice the redheaded, green-eyed, barefoot, 14 year old girl standing in the doorway.
"Excuse me, miss, but you're in the doorway…No darling, I'm sure that France wouldn't mind if you bought one of the Channel Islands."
One of the many guests just arriving pushed past the girl, hardly even noticing her, he was too busy discussing with a fair looking blonde that just reeked of money. She stepped aside, realizing she was attracting attention, even if it's only a small amount. It would only take one person to make the assumption that she didn't belong there, and then it would be too late to prove anything.
Izzy noticed the staircase and the deserted balcony and she made her way over to the red soft-feeling, luxurious-looking carpet-clad stairs.
Something was pulling the girl up the stairs, some instinct that allowed humans to survive for many millenniums, but whatever it was, it told her something bad was about to happen…
Izzy jerked her head up. She found herself sitting on her knees in the middle of the sidewalk.
"Miss Winters! What are you doing? Come with me now!"
To make matters worse, Izzy RCMP Guardian was approaching her at a pace that could be called a fast walk. Izzy quickly jumped up and sprinted down the sidewalk, turning down street after street until he was far behind her.
'I promised myself I wouldn't think of the Accident anymore…But if it keeps surprising me like that, I'll go insane like Uncle Bonjour…' Izzy thought to herself, as she dashed out from behind an oak tree, surprising a couple of evening lovers. She didn't spare them another thought, rather her attention turned to her RCMP Guardian, whose real name is not RCMP Guardian (shocking right?), but Mr. Wright, a name that had earned him the nickname (by Izzy, of course) Mr. Wrong.
'Hehe,' she silently laughed to herself, 'I should be grateful I got Mr. Wrong. If it weren't for him, I'd be on the streets again…And I could have gotten a worse Guardian, one that locks me up in my house, or rather, tree house. Hmmm...'
"Do tree houses even have locks?" Izzy asked out loud, not expecting an answer.
"I don't know, sweetheart. Are you trying to keep certain people out of your bedroom?"
Izzy whirled around to find…no one? She turned back, and still didn't find anybody. She wasn't imaging voices yet; she's not that crazy.
"Up here, sweetheart."
This time Izzy looked up, into the branches of a tree, and found a boy around 17 sitting on one of the branches, grinning an Izzy grin.
"Bam!" Izzy shouted, while mimicking shooting a gun. She grinned, "Sorry, it's a habit."
The boy jumped down with the easy gracefulness of someone who's had plenty of practice doing that. Izzy could finally get a good look at him.
He had dyed navy blue hair and eyes that matched. His white undershirt and black unbuttoned shirt and black jeans stood out against his pale skin. Izzy was immediately wary of him, not knowing why.
"So, what's a pretty young thing like yourself walking the streets at a time like this?" he asked.
Izzy stared at him like he was the crazy one.
"Mr. Stranger –" she began, before he interrupted: "It's Jet."
"'Kay. Jet, you know it's only, what, 4 in the afternoon. And I am capable of defending myself, you know. Once my Uncle Bonjour…" Izzy faltered at the mention of her uncle, and then kept talking. If Jet noticed, he didn't comment. "Once, he was attacked by all of these ninja assassins from this group of an organization called 'The Ace of Spades' [1], and they were trying to kill him. But he knew all these ninja moves, so he survived. He taught me everything I know, so I'm practically a ninja! And so –" Izzy was stopped short because Jet had latched his mouth to hers. She blinked a few times, started glaring daggers, and pushed against Jet with all her might. She sent him toppling to his feet.
"What was that?" Izzy screeched.
"Well, you wouldn't shut up! And besides, don't act like you didn't enjoy it. Now, help me up, will you sweetheart?" Jet held out his outstretched hand.
Izzy kicked him three times in the place where the sun don't shine. "That's for insulting me. That's for kissing me. And that's for calling me sweetheart."
Needless to say, that kind of pissed off Jet.
"Fine, crazy bitch. Don't say I didn't warn you." This earned him another kick.
Izzy cackled again, and a sudden brilliant idea stuck her. Izzy pulled out a length of vine from who-knows-where and smirks evilly at Jet.
A few moments later…
"What the hell? Why did you…do this?" That would be Jet. The laughed that was barely contained would be Izzy.
"I'd love to hang around with you, but," Izzy gestured towards the shining city lights then smiled and shrugged helplessly, "the city calls, you know?"
Izzy walked away, obviously ignoring the string of profanities coming from the navy-blue haired boy dangling by his ankles from a vine that was wrapped around the branch of the tree he was previously sitting in.
Izzy started humming to herself as she approached the city, which shall remain nameless to insure Izzy's privacy. Amidst the towering buildings, the blinking lights, and the relentless noise, Izzy felt right at home.
Izzy could name all of the vast businesses and hotels alike. Right there, to her left, was the Sleeping Dove Inn, infamous for having the worst batch of criminals to sleep in its ratty, cheap beds. It was originally a cube shaped building, but every owner had added a new wing, so it's now the most-mismatched building in the entire city. Izzy remembered stopping there for dinner one night. She grimaced at the thought of the barf coloured stew – if you could even call it that. It put even Chef's cooking to shame, in the utterly disgusting category. She saw a cockroach leg floating around in the muck. It twitched.
Needless to say, Izzy did not go back for seconds.
Up ahead was the cooperate tower that manufactured chocolate bars, of all things. It was a normal rectangular prism tower, like all other towers around the globe, but this one was different. It was painted to look exactly like a giant chocolate bar. It was painted a chocolate brown and had 'Hershay's Chocolate' painted along the edge. Izzy tried climbing the side, but before she could get 10 feet off the ground, her hand slid off the curve of the 'e'. Izzy cackled her famous – or infamous, whatever you prefer – cackle at her memory of sneaking in once, before Total Drama Island, before the Accident, before she lost all hope of being normal, and changing the labels of the chocolate to read 'Dizzy Izzy's Crazy Chocolate Bars' instead of 'Hershay's Chocolate.' [2]
Next to the chocolate manufacturing business was a small, actually cube-shaped building, the tiny gift shop. Izzy snorted in disgust – Izzy detested anything normal – but smiled at the pleasant – well, normal – memories she had of the place. Her baking cookies with Mrs. Smithy, her painting the inside walls a bright lime green. If she tried hard enough, Izzy could even remember the warm, moist, chocolaty smell of the cookies being pulled out from the oven.
All of this brought tears to Izzy's eyes. Her life would never be the same.
Making her first stop, as per usual, at the magazine stand, Izzy greeted one of her many city friends.
"Yo, Mickey, how's the stand selling?"
"Same old, same old, Bells. I'm surprised to see you here, thought. Didn't Mr. Wright ground you to your estate for three weeks for ditching the last week of your boarding school to go camping in the nearby forest?"
"Yep!" Izzy grinned.
"So why'd he let you come to the city? Alone, it appears."
"He didn't."
"Then, what – oh, I see. Still delightfully evil as always, Izzy."
"So what's the hottest seller?" Izzy asked, curious.
"See for yourself." Mickey held up one of many magazines, titled Drama Deliver. Izzy rose her eyebrows because on the cover was a picture of her. Technically, it was that picture of all of the 22 contestants standing or sitting on the dock, taken at the beginning of the season, right before the dock broke and they all crashed into the ice-cold water. She snatched the magazine from Mickey's hands and flipped to the article. She read and her knuckles started turning white. Mickey instinctively backed away.
Drama's Not over for Total Drama Island
Hey dedicated fans. Remember, way back a month or two ago, that reality show featuring 22 teens (Owen the Overeater, Bridgette the Surfer, Geoff the Party Animal, DJ the Animal Friend, Courtney the CIT, Duncan the Criminal, Heather the Queen Bee, Leshawna the Loud n' Proud Sister, Harold the Nerd, Izzy the Crazy Girl, Lindsay the Blonde, Noah the Bookworm, Ezekiel the Homeschool, Eva the Fitness Buff, Tyler the Jock, Katie and Sadie the BFFFLs, Justin the Eye Candy, Beth the Farm-girl, Gwen the Goth, Trent the Musician, and Cody the Techno-Geek)?
Well, we promised to keep you up to date about any sort of activity from Total Drama Agency, the agency that ran Total Drama Island. And now we are keeping our promise.
Total Drama Island is having a reunion, where all 22 contestants (see above) will return together for one day and night, celebrating surviving Total Drama Island and congratulating Owen, the winner.
We caught up to Chris McLean to find out more…
Drama Deliver: So, Mr. McLean, it is true, then, about the reunion?
Chris McLean: Please, call me Chris. And yes [evil cackle] Total Drama Island campers will be meeting again for the first time since Total Drama Island.
Drama Deliver: So, Chris, you are known for having, let's say, unusual surprises for our favorite campers, so of course, this piqued our interest in the reunion. You wouldn't happen to have anything up your sleeve, would you?
Chris McLean: Oh, you should know by now, I'll always have something up my sleeve. But, as to the reunion…oh yes, [evil cackle] there will be a delightful surprise.
Drama Deliver: Oh, now you really have us interested. Could you tell us more?
Chris McLean: All I can say is that Total Drama Island is far from over.
Drama Deliver: Thank you Chris McLean for you time today. Now Drama Deliver caught up to some of the available campers to have their views on the reunion and surprise.
Drama Deliver: Geoff, how have you been?
Geoff: Awesome, magazine people!
Drama Deliver: And how's Bridgette?
Geoff: Bridge is amazing!
Drama Deliver: Uh-huh, and tell us, how do you feel about the reunion?
Geoff: It will be so sweet to see all of my awesome party friends again, like Duncan, and oh, Harold better watch out for Courtney, that chick's got one nasty bite.
Drama Deliver: We agree, and we just can't wait. So, what are your views on the unveiled surprise that Chris McLean contains?
Geoff: Huh?
Drama Deliver: What do you think the surprise Chris is supposedly going to reveal at the reunion is?
Geoff: Oh, knowing McLean, it will be something wickedly awesome. I'm thinking that maybe there will be this awesome party where McLean will announce another scavenger hunt for another case will another 100 grand in it.
Drama Deliver: With Chris, anything's possible. Now, let's us go and visit said 'chick with one nasty bite', everyone's favorite Councilor in Training, Courtney.
Drama Deliver: Hey Courtney, how have you been?
Courtney: Didn't you just ask that same question of Party Boy?
Drama Deliver: Your point?
Courtney: We're all different, you know. We aren't just pawns for you to push around.
Drama Deliver: No, pushing you around like pawns is Chris's job.
Courtney: Stupid McLean, letting Harold get away with cheating me out of $100000.
Drama Deliver: Still touchy about that, are you?
Courtney: Duh.
Drama Deliver: Anyways, what do you think of the reunion?
Courtney: I think that it's just another one of McLean's many scams to get paid.
Drama Deliver: And your opinion on the surprise Chris has yet to unveil?
Courtney: Isn't it obvious? He's going to realize that he's going to get the pants sued off of him unless he corrects the wrongs of what Harold did and give me the money.
Drama Deliver: And speaking of pants off of a guy, how are you and Duncan?
Courtney: Fine.
Drama Deliver: Still together?
Courtney: Yes.
Drama Deliver: Do your parents approve?
Courtney: No.
Drama Deliver: Does his?
Courtney: Yes.
Drama Deliver: What is with your one word answers?
Courtney: Screw off.
Drama Deliver: Well then. Now, let's visit the final camper we were able to contact: the one, the only, Miss Queen Bee, Heather!
Drama Deliver: How are you, Heather?
Heather: Fine.
Drama Deliver: How's your hair? Is it growing back?
Heather: Fine.
Drama Deliver: And…?
Heather: Yes.
Drama Deliver: So, we just interviewed two taken campers. Just out of curiosity, do you like anybody?
Heather: Yes.
Drama Deliver: Oh! Who?
Heather: Somebody.
Drama Deliver: Well then. So are you still mad about being kicked off Total Drama Island?
Heather: Yes.
Drama Deliver: Why?
Heather: Because.
Drama Deliver: God! What is with pissed off girls and one word answers?
Heather: Screw off.
Drama Deliver: Funny enough, Courtney said the same thing.
Heather: Courtney? You interviewed her? How is she?
Drama Deliver: Courtney, yes we did, and apparently fine. But aren't we supposed to be the ones asking the questions? And why did you suddenly get interested in this interview?
Heather: So, um, is she still with…Duncan?
Drama Deliver: Yes. And why do you care…Oh, god, I know where this is going.
Heather: No, you don't. Believe me, you don't.
Drama Deliver: I bet I do.
Heather: I bet you don't.
Drama Deliver: I bet I do.
Heather: I bet you freaking don't.
Drama Deliver: You like –
Heather: Anyway, aren't you going to ask what I think about McLean's reunion and what I think the surprise is?
Drama Deliver: I said I'm the one asking questions!
Heather: Thanks for asking. I think that McLean is up to something; he wouldn't hold a reunion to gather everyone together just out of the love from the bottom of his heart. Not that I think he even has one.
Drama Deliver: Of course he's up to something. That's who Chris is.
Heather: McLean will be getting something out of this, money or fame or something. Just you watch.
Drama Deliver: Thank you, Heather.
And there you heard it. There will, in fact, be a reunion of epic proportions, filled with love, hate, jealousy, angst, and of course, drama. Stay tuned in to find out more, and remember, Drama Deliver is the one magazine you can rely on to get the latest, the greatest, the shocking drama.
Izzy was silent for a couple seconds, her eyes glazed over, unseeing. A smile that didn't quite reach her eyes appeared on her face. She twitched. It appeared as if she was any other normal girl, eagerly waiting for the reunion, but on the inside a small war was being fought by her emotions all wanting to be heard.
Anger: A reunion? How could that freaking sadistic host have a reunion? It'll probably turn into a chance to hunt down another 100 thousand and when we finally find the case, it will explode!
Miserable: Hadn't Izzy already suffered enough? Hadn't her life already been changed enough?
Frustration: When will McLean catch a clue that he's not wanted?
But underneath all these emotions, Izzy found emotions she hadn't felt in a while.
Eagerness: Izzy wanted the reunion to arrive. She was missing part of herself; she felt incomplete. Maybe her life would be changed enough by the reunion to never be normal again. And, surprisingly, Izzy missed her friends.
The last time Izzy felt eager…
…was when she got the letter saying that she made Total Drama Island. Izzy remembered…
…that she had jumped up and down when the plump letter had fallen into her hands. She tore open the letter and read the first line, the first word…
'Congratulations!' Izzy was ready for change. Ever since the Accident, her life has been as close to as normal as possible thanks to Mr. Wright, her guardian. He, for some reason, felt that Izzy wanted normality after the accident.
Izzy felt her legs shake.
Hope: Why was she feeling hope? Because she thought that this might be the one thing to get her life back to its normal chaos. Because her heart fluttered at the thought of meeting her friends again?
The last time Izzy was hopeful…
…was at the Hospital. No one knew what it was originally called; everyone now just calls it the Hospital. Izzy was just 14 years old and she was standing next to one of the cots in the Emergency Room. She had asked the doctor, "Will they be okay?" The doctor replied…
"Possibly…"
Jus that one word had filled up Izzy's heart so much she started crying, and she doesn't cry that often. Hope bubbled up like the fizz of a soda…
'No! That wasn't the last time I felt hope, felt that pure happiness with a shadow of doubt!' Izzy thought to herself, unaware that her knees had hit the sidewalk for the second time that day. 'I was happy the first time I met Owen away from the cameras…'
"So you're Isabeau?"
That would be Owen, the large, cheerful blob of food. Izzy smiled.
"Izzy."
"Oh. I'm Owen, and I like food."
Izzy laughed and handed Owen some of Chef's 'food' she had swiped from lunch. Owen happily ate the food and then bear hugged Izzy.
"Izzy, do you have a boyfriend?"
"Nope."
"Will food-girl Izzy be mine?"
"Your boyfriend?"
"No silly, my girlfriend!"
"Sure!"
Then they proceeded to make out.
That wasn't hope. I was attracted to Owen because he was like a drug to me, a light to a moth. His happiness made me forget my depression…' Izzy thought. 'And, as much as I hate to admit it, even to my crazy self, maybe I wanted someone to mess with, so someone else could feel some degree of pain I had endured for the past two years…'
Izzy winced. She was going to break up with Owen. She couldn't toy around with him anymore. It was fun, but nothing more than that.
Izzy looked up from the magazine; her eyes, previously unfocused, were sharper than normal, yet fuzzy. Izzy could see the blotches of tears that had splattered onto the magazine. Izzy looked up from the magazine into the concerned face off a complete stranger.
"Don't worry; she just found out her crush celebrity Dustin Beaver [3] was injured in a fatal car crash," Mickey was reassuring the strangers that had gathered around the girl, crying silently on her knees.
With that, the strangers started walking away; apparently that was enough of an answer.
"Izzy, Isabeau, my Beau, who died?" Mickey meant it as a joke, but the joke struck the nail on the head.
"Don't! They didn't need to die!" Izzy whispered.
Izzy jumped to her feet. She glanced at her fingers, the knuckles white in fear, the fingers red in anger, still clutching the Drama Deliver. She called forth her strength within and ripped the magazine in half. She threw the magazine on the ground in disgust and darted away from the prying eyes of the public.
Mickey, she would have to explain later. Even though he knew that she was on Total Drama Island (besides her guardian and other RCMP agents, no one in the city or houses surrounding the city knew that the famous psychopath Izzy lived amidst them), he didn't know the specific details surrounding the Accident. Actually, all he knew was that something happened to Izzy at age 14 and she had been different since.
Izzy wasn't paying attention to where she was running to. Businesses flew by, only as blurred streaks of color… a pale yellow, most likely the gift shop… a baby blue, probably the dentist's office…a giant chocolate brown, definitely the chocolate bar factory. Street names jumped out from the street signs, went in though one eye and out through the other.
Main Street…
South Park…
Seagull Harbour…
West Drive…
East Drive…
Izzy was so confused, so lost, by the time she stopped running; she could have been on the street she started on and not known. She looked up at the conveniently placed street sign.
'Main Street. This damn city has, like, 10 Main Streets. Every freaking city has a Main Street.' Izzy was silently screaming at herself.
Izzy looked right. All she saw was a line of little wannabe shops all lined up in a green row and a vast shopping mall. Izzy read the signs, hoping she'd recognize one, but didn't. She frowned. Aunty Barber's Salon (a funky little shop, green with pink stripes), Rusty Bucket Repair Shop (a building with a giant wrench on top, painted a green-grey), Snake Eyes: Gamboling (which was where you could 'legally' gamble at, a dirty looking, puke coloured, trash filled building), and May Bee Dime's mall [4], (an enormous mall lime green wall with multiple wings like a movie theater and Cold Topic [5]). None of them ring a bell.
Izzy looked left. It was a giant graveyard…Izzy gasped, but then took a closer look. What she had taken for tombstones were actually parts of cars, the pile of dirt a pile of junk. It wasn't a graveyard; it was a junkyard.
Izzy giggled, as a sudden thought struck her.
"Well," she laughed out loud, "it a graveyard. It's a graveyard for junk."
Curious, forgetting the fact that she was lost and alone in a city nearing nighttime, Izzy changed directions, heading for the graveyard/junkyard.
Izzy looked up. There was a faded sign above the gate, with graffiti written underneath.
"McKeon's…Car-Bags…Stop?" Izzy asked out loud.
"McKeon's Garbage Drop-off…"
Izzy looked around. But no one was there. She was sure she heard someone answer back to her. She wasn't crazy enough to be hearing voices, was she?
Beneath the faded McKeon's sign, someone had written in bright (blood-red, Izzy thought) spray-paint, 'The Junkyard'.
Izzy smiled, liking the name the Junkyard. She opened the gate, which creaked as it opened and shut without a sound, and started wondering around. Izzy marveled at the vast amount of treasure and trash in the Junkyard.
After walking for about half a minute, Izzy stopped and stooped down, then stood up holding a lime green container. It's approximately two inches high, a bright red with silver vines running along the sides, and a hinge. Izzy noticed the hinge and opened it. There was a button, which Izzy didn't hesitate to press. A little flame flickered into existence. Izzy stared into the flame something in the flame: an image of two adults, a blonde female with blue eyes and a red-haired male with blue eyes.
Izzy yelped and dropped the lighter. Someone behind her snickered.
"Aw, did the little flame burn the little girl?" the voice asked in a mocking voice.
Izzy, acting on habit, spun around and karate-chopped the speaker right in the nose.
"Ow! Seriously, what the hell?" he gasped.
Izzy giggled. "Aw, did the little girl burn you?"
She offered the guy her hand, which he smiled and took.
"You're pretty quick on your feet."
"Thank you." Izzy smiled.
The guy stared at her, puzzled. Izzy frowned.
"Normally, when someone says 'thank you', you say 'you're welcome' or 'how is your mother?'" Izzy growled.
"How's your mother?" the guy repeated in confusion.
"Oh, she's fine, thanks for asking!" Izzy giggled.
"Okay, okay. You're welcome. I'm Mike."
"Isabeau, but call me Izzy."
"Isa-beautiful."
Izzy rolled her eyes, but smiled. "You don't know how many times I've heard that."
"Well, excuse me. Anyway, what are you doing out here?"
"I could ask the same of you."
"No you couldn't, because I own this place. McKeon's Garbage Drop-Off belonged to my dad, but now it's mine."
"Well, excuse me."
They both laughed, and then Mike started staring at her again.
"No offense or anything, but it's kinda creepy, the way you keep staring at me," Izzy said.
Then Mike said something Izzy didn't ever want to hear from a stranger: "You look familiar."
Izzy growled, and then shouted, "No I don't! Can't you all just leave me alone? It isn't my fault! Blame McLean!"
"McLean…Chris McLean…Oh, my god. You're Izzy!" Mike gasped. Izzy gasped too, and she started running again.
This is what Izzy's been doing for the past month: running. She doesn't know why; all that she knows is that if she stays with someone long enough to befriend them, they'd recognize her from that infernal show. Or they'd be killed, like the people she loved most had been two years ago…
Maybe this is what prompted Izzy to finally ask for directions, return home like she had so many other times she's run away, and finally look at Homeschool's letter. Maybe Izzy was so tired of hiding that she took the chance to befriend someone like Homeschool, just so she didn't have to pretend. No one knows except Izzy, and no one's willing to ask her.
All that we know is that she returned back to her home, accepted the letter from Mr. Wright, who was waiting, as always, at the dining room table, and climbed up to her tree house. There, she read the letter and smiled. She wrote back…
Dear Homeschool,
I don't know what caused me to finally read your letter, but I did. Thank you for writing.
I just wanted to say that I do, kind of, forgive you. You didn't know any better, did you? But I was wondering…Where did you pick up that girls were weaker than guys, and why?
Homeschool, what kind of consequences have you been having because of Total Drama Island. I'm curious because I've been having some problems too. I can't get to friendly with anyone or else they'd recognize who I am, and then they'd be all paparazzi on me. Maybe that's why I wrote back to you. I don't have to pretend anything around you, because you know exactly what I'm going through.
Also, Homeschool, I just saw the latest issue of Drama Deliver. And guess what was on the cover? Total Drama Island. Homeschool, there is going to be a reunion of the cast, and if I know McLean, he's got something up his sleeve. I'll include a copy of the magazine. I'm just warning you, watch out. On a different note…
Homeschool, I do remember you. And it's not just of the sexist homeschooled boy. I remember you jumping off that cliff…Do you remember that? I remember you getting all those boxes to the beach…Do you remember that? I do, Homeschool, I do…
Of course it's me. Izzy
P.S. You can call me whatever you'd like.
P.P.S. You might want to work on your crossing out technique. It needs improvement.
[1] The Ace of Spades is copyrighted by cometsgirl.
[2] Hershay's Chocolate is copyrighted by cometsgirl. Hershey's Chocolate is not owned by cometsgirl.
[3] Dustin Beaver is copyrighted by cometsgirl. Justin Beiber is not owned by cometsgirl.
[4] May Bee Dime's is copyrighted by cometsgirl. JC Penny's is not owned by cometsgirl.
[5] Cold Topic is copyrighted by cometsgirl. Hot Topic is not owned by cometsgirl.
If you want to use The Ace of Spades, Hershay's Chocolate, Dustin Beaver, May Bee Dime's, or Cold Topic, just PM me.
Well…I finally finished it. Do you like it? Do you hate it? I personally think it's better than the previous chapter, but that's just my opinion. I need yours!
None of you all suggested an author/story for me to advertise, so I'll advertise the person who added Dear Isabeau to their favorite story list, added me to their favorite author list and to their author alert list, and reviewed…. Athulis! WOO!
Now it's time for the story advertisement brought to you by Ezekiel….Story Pencils!
Zeke: Have you ever wanted to write a story but you didn't have a pencil? Well, now you can go and buy a Story Pencil…Wait, that's just stupid. Can I leave now?
Tada!
Also, I'd like to remind you all that this story is still Dear Isabella; I just changed the name Isabella to Isabeau. Why? Because I can. See previous chapter for more reasons.
As to the questions about the reunion you might be having…
Yes, I will, in fact, be having the reunion, but that will happen after Dear Isabeau is finished because the reunion will be like the prologue to my next story.
Remember the three R's…
Read – my story
Review – my story
Recommend – your story or another story or yourself or another author to be posted at the bottom of my chapters
I leave you with these questions…
What is the Accident? Does Izzy really forgive Ezekiel? Why did Ezekiel write in the first place? What will happen at the reunion? And why do I keep asking questions like Chris McLean? Find out soon, or not, in Dear Isabeau!
See you soon, or not.
L8rs, cometsgirl