Am I a bad person yet?

Review Replies:

nuttierthansquirelpoop - 1) I know right?! It was so asdfghjkl; I can't even! I was sad when they broke up, though. :/ 2) No! Don't cry! I've heard billions of kids crying today! I'll do what you want, just DON'T CRY! 3) Haha, yeah I bet it is! Nah, I think the people on there are just creatively spirited. You wouldn't happen to know what blog it was on, would you? 4) sdgbhhk;l/juyhkglhkjtghjlul Sank you! :DD Like ohmygollygoshers you're too nice! X) No I'm not an anime/manga fan. I just couldn't get myself into it. Just not my thing. :)

Beatrice Den - Thanks a lot! :D I want to keep it up so let me know if this chapter is good too. :) Yeah, those are some good options, as longas Dez stays crazy. He's the funniest on the show. :)

CaffeinatedKitty - xDD I like that idea about the 'fictional bus'. We could that make that happen to someone we dislike as much as Haley, if you catch my drift. ;D Yes, Isaac does represent Ike. I looked it up on Google and, apparently Ike is short for Isaac! I think an entire flash mob of people singing Can You Feel The Love Tonight would make them realize they like each other and get married and live happily ever after! I have no idea how that happens. I guess people just like random and stupid stories. Like, my story Mt. Stupid has the most reviews I've ever gotten for a one-shot, and it is literally the stupidest thing I have ever posted on the internet. Hey as long as you got a muse then you're good. :)

IzzyQuagmire0907 - Yayyy! :DD Oh my goshers, seriously? We probable share a supernatural internet telepathy...thing... :)

FreezingSapphire - xDD Don't worry! It'll all work in the end. Trust me, I'm a sucker for happy endings. :)

FeminerdyPotato - No, thank you! :DD I fixed it? Really? So just keep doing this? Okay! :D I missed you too! I missed all my readers, I never want to take that long to update again. :)

Dancingchocolatesmudge - Aww cool! Really, you'd be my beta reader? :D Well I probably wouldn't send in this story, but things I'll be working on in the future, if you're up for it. :) Wait. WAIT. I inspired you? Like, inspired? And now I suddenly feel like my purpose as a human is being fulfilled. X) Finally! Someone who's younger than me who gets it! In my opinion, people are going way too cra-cra with the whole dating scene. And that dance idea is retarded. Vote for a guy, pfffft! That's absolutely ridiculous. Boys, like girls, shouldn't be a looked upon as a prize to be won! Or...voted on. I don't know. Come on, let's be crazy cat hating ladies together. Oh, and thank you thank you! :D

Nutella - I know, right?! It's been forever! I'm so happy to be out. Hope you get out soon. :)

So I just read the latest review for my story Mt. Stupid. Oh my God. Is it wrong that after reading it I felt like I did my job? (Look at the one posted on January 7th, 2013 if you want to know what I'm talking about.)

The Isadora Diaries:

Crazy:

Saturday, March 31st

Yesterday, after my Aunt Josie packed up her kids and left (is it bad to be this happy about it?), I joined my family for a nice, quiet family dinner. Our family dinners are usually quiet because it's like no one has anything to talk or we're just to busy worrying about something else to talk. So the conversation that my dad started threw all of us off.

"So I bought a car today."

All of our heads snapped towards our father.

"You did what?"

"Really?!"

"No way!"

"Duncan James Rockefeller! You bought a car and didn't even bother talking it through with me first?!"

My dad looked like he was already expecting the reaction that he got. "Now before you all go crazy on me," he said with a hint of sarcasm as he narrowed his eyes at all of us, "here me out. I bought from my Uncle Craig for few hundred dollars because no one he knew would buy it. I just took it off his hands."

"Let me make sure I got all of it, Dad," Duncan said with a mouthful of food. "You bought a car from Crazy Craig? A car that Crazy Craig was selling? Well of course no one would buy it from him, Dad! He's crazy! Who knows what he's done to that car. I mean, he's probably got it set to morph into a Transformers every time you put the key in the ignition!"

My dad snorted. "Quit exaggerating, Duncan. He wouldn't do that because he's not crazy at all. He's just a little more spirited than most people."

"Your telling me," my mom grumbled. Then a little louder, she asked, "Isn't he the one who rolled off a 200 foot tall cliff in a barrel wearing nothing but a sundress and a fedora?"

"Sounds like Crazy Craig all right," Quigley said under his breath with a smirk.

Dad dropped his fork and pointed his finger at my brother. "Now stop that you two. Your uncle is not crazy."

"Just admit it, Dad," Quigley pushed. "I mean, even Isadora thinks he's crazy! And we all know she's not exactly sane."

I ignored his comment about my sanity.

Because it's true, really.

"I actually like Uncle Craig," I said matter-of-factly.

My dad gestured towards me with a triumphant smile.

"I think his insanity is one of his best qualities" I finished.

His smile fell.

"Oh, come on, Dad, " Duncan groaned. "It's not like we said we didn't like him. We like crazy people. Honest." Quigley and I nodded our heads vigorously in agreement.

"Good," he said, raising his fork to his mouth. "Because we are all going to visit him tomorrow when I go pick up the car."

My brothers and I groaned in unison.

My dad dropped his fork and stared at the three of us in astonishment. "What happened here? You all said you like Uncle Craig two seconds ago!"

"We do, but does it have to be tomorrow?" Quigley groaned.

"Yeah," I added. "I got stuff to do."

"Oh yeah? Like what?" my father asked, awaiting my answer with an expression that said he knew my answer wasn't good enough.

"Homework," I answered, raising a single pea to my mouth.

Actually, what I wanted to do was mope some more about how Haley won Klaus over and they were going to the Spring Formal together and are spending a lot of time together and Haley hates me so Klaus won't talk to me and-UGH!

But I didn't want to announce that to everyone over the dinner table.

"You can do that tonight because we are all going tomorrow."

"Oh, come on, Dad," Duncan pleaded.

"No, you come on," Dad scolded. Pointing to Quigley, he stated, "You spend too much time with Violet," pointing to Duncan, he continued, "you're too hung up on baseball to care about anything else, and you," he pointed to me at the end, "you spend too much time locked away in your bedroom doing God knows what on that laptop of yours. We need to spend more time as a family. Besides, when was the last time we saw Uncle Craig?"

"Easter," my mother deadpanned, referring to the most recently occurred holiday.

"Well...we're going to see him again tomorrow. No more arguments." And with that, he picked up his plate, dropped it in the sink, and went upstairs.

The three of us turned to our mother. "Mom?"

It was usually what my mother says goes, not my father. He was usually the reserved, observant, easy-going, occasionally making a sarcastic comment parent. This was all too new.

"Don't look at me!" Mother exclaimed, standing up to put her dish away. "I am not stepping in when your father is acting like that."

My brothers and I sighed in disappointment.

"Besides," Mother continued, "I think he's hot when he acts like that."

"Ew!"

"Gross!"

"Mom!"

"Why would you say that?!"

"There's a picture in my head! Oh, God, there's a picture!"

"I think I'm going to lose my dinner!"

The next morning, the five of us packed into my dad's car for the long drive out of town to the countryside.

"I'm cold!" Quigley whined as he pulled on my jacket sleeve after attempting to stick both of his legs in his shirt.

"Jeez, Quigley," I snapped, pulling my arm away, "you think you'd be warm enough with all that hair on your legs."

"Oh, burn!" Duncan shouted, laughing like crazy.

"I wouldn't talk so much, sis." Quigley narrowed his eyes at me. "If you were boy then you'd have this same problem!"

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever. If I was a boy, I'd be way too much cooler than you to care. Oh, wait, I'm cooler than you anyway."

"Hey, Mom," Duncan called from the backseat behind me and Quigley, "I think Quigley needs some ice for that awful BURN!"

"Yeah, sweetie, could you just put a couple more tally marks under Isadora's name there?" Dad asked, looking away from the road a minute to point at the notebook that was keeping mine and Quigley's score.

My mother put down her mascara in frustration. Taking the notebook and a pen, she muttered under her breath, "Put another tally mark." Then louder she complained, "I don't know why you're making me participate in this childish game of yours."

"Well, you didn't think it was so childish when we played it when we were teenagers," my dad smirked at her. My mother just chuckled and drew the marks.

"Yeah, how did that work out anyways?" Duncan asked, "Didn't you two speak two completely different languages?"

"Oh, sweetie," my mother turned around to smile sweetly at him."You don't need to speak a foreign language to give someone a good insult."

"Oh, yeah," Quigley crossed his arms. "Well, I bet Dad won."

I rolled my eyes."Oh, please. Have you met our mother?"

"She's right," Dad laughed. "Your mother won."

"Because I'm better at everything," my mother said, fixing her makeup again with a joking smile on her face.

"Um, no, I was better." Dad smirked. "You won because I had a crush on you, and I wanted you to like me."

"Did you get her to?" Duncan piped up from the back.

I took advantage of the split second of pure astonishment at his ignorant question to make a sarcastic comment. "No, you're only here because Mother reproduces by budding."

Duncan looked at me with confusion while Quigley and my parents burst into laughter.

"Give her another mark," Dad said between laughs.

"What's the score now, Mom?" Quigley asked excitedly from behind her.

"Um..." she put her makeup down again to check the notebook. "Isadora: 73; Quigley: 25; Duncan: One and a half."

"What? There's no way she could have that much!" Quigley protested.

I shrugged. "I told you I could be mean when I wanted to! Especially when I'm locked in a car with you."

"I want a rematch."

"I want a burrito," Duncan said from the back again.

"Duncan, how did you even start liking burritos?" Mother turned around to look at him. "You're not Hispanic in any way."

Duncan shrugged. "When you leave a fifth grader alone in the middle of a parking lot surrounded by restaurants, he discovers new things."

"I never..." Mother began with confusion, when it suddenly dawned at her. She turned to my guilty looking Dad. "Was this when I took Isadora with me to Paris? When were you planning to tell me this? After your funeral?!"

"Duncan," Dad groaned, "you were supposed to keep that quiet!"

"Did you know about this, too, Quigley?!" Mother shouted at him.

Quigley shook his head vigorously.

"That's because Dad left him at the park before he left me in the parking lot," Duncan blurted.

"Duncan!" Dad yelled.

"What?" Duncan shrugged. "Might as well come clean about everything."

"Please don't tell me there's more!" Mother covered her face with her hands.

"Well," Duncan answered, "there's that time when you were at-"

"Oh, look, it's Uncle Craig!" Dad shouted a little too enthusiastically. We all looked up to see Uncle Craig waving at us in front of his old, brown, rickety looking house that stood at the front of a wide field of yellowish wheat. He came to greet us as we pulled into his driveway. The car had barely stopped before my mother hopped out of the car and stormed angrily towards Uncle Craig. "Please talk to you nephew!" She groaned angrily. "He is absolutely crazy!"

Uncle Craig furrowed his brow. "I thought I held that title."

My brothers and I looked at our dad at once with an expression as if to say, "Really?"

Dad avoided our gaze and stumbled to get out of the car. "Shut up."

After a very warm greeting, we all went inside to sit in the living room. I was about to sit in the corner of the couch next to the arm when Quigley plopped himself down in the seat.

"Move, Q-tip, I was going to sit there."

"Make me, Iguana-face."

"Okay."

I grabbed the nearest pillow and shoved it in his face as I tried to squeeze into the non-existent space between Quigley and the arm rest. He pulled the pillow and hit me with it as I finally got my butt down to the seat forcing him to scoot over. He grabbed my legs that were now on top of his. Then he stood and pulled me by legs to the other side of the couch and rushed to get to the seat. I sat up and tried to crawl back into the space. By that time, our parents and uncle had walked in and had seen us fighting. "Fight! Fight! Fight!" Uncle Craig had begun chanting.

"Craig!" Mother scolded.

"What you don't let them wrestle?" he questioned. When her expression didn't change, he only shook his head. "Such a shame." Mother turned to us."Quigley, let go Isadora; Isadora, get off your brother! Both of you just stop acting like children!"

"Actually, Mom," Duncan spoke up from a rocking chair off to the side, "if neither of them are doing their own thing then its a must for them to fight like. Nothing personal, that's just how they bond."

Mother shot him a look that told him to shut up.

I took the seat next to Quigley instead, trying my best not to laugh, and I could see Quigley struggling as well. My dad sat on my other side. "You'll get him next time." he smirked.

"My big brother and I used to wrestle all the time," Uncle Craig began, sitting down in a chair and the conversation was downhill from there.

As lunchtime rolled around, my mother insisted on cooking lunch while Uncle Craig showed the rest of us his basement. My dad had seen it before, and he was worn out from focusing on the road for three and a half hours so he went upstairs to sleep a little bit.

So a ignorant question asking kid and his fighting enabler siblings ventured to an underground room with an elderly, unstable man.

Perfectly normal, right?

At the opening of the basement, you could only see a few dusty, old boxes. But when Uncle Craig turned on the light, it suddenly turned into a room full of vintage treasures. There was some furniture, but at the back there was a wooden desk cluttered with old newspapers. The wall in front of it was covered with old pictures of young men in, usually standing in front of cars.

"What are all these, Uncle Craig?" Quigley asked flipping through an old newspaper.

"Keepsakes from my old career. Whenever he stayed with me your father loved it down here, reading everything, I figured you would too."

Everything did look interesting, especially with the headlines on the newspaper: "Number fifty-five slides across the finish line missing two wheels and the hood on fire."

"What was your old career?"Duncan asked, reading the descriptions on the pictures.

"A Nascar driver," he stated as if that was no big deal.

"Whoa!" I wheeled around to him quickly.

"Really?" Quigley exclaimed. "They let you behind the wheel?"

Duncan elbowed Quigley in the gut. Uncle Craig only laughed. "Crazy, right? They knew about my record of driving off cliffs and driving up ramps to fly above other cars in traffic and they still let me in!"

I stared at him in amazement. Driving off what now?

"Did you win a trophy?"Duncan asked excitedly.

Uncle Craig, shook his head. "No." He walked over to a cabinet and opened it, revealing perfectly polished, golden trophies. "I've won four Winston Cups. In a row."

Our jaws dropped. Duncan was the first to talk. "So, you were like, awesome!"

"Do you still have your car?" Quigley blurted.

"Yeah," he confirmed, "It's in the garage if you want to see it."

And we definitely wanted to

It was small and flat. Faded red paint covered it, alone with white stripes. On the hood and the back of the car there were two large white circles in the center, each with the number five in it. Number fifty-five. Uncle Craig was the one with his car half dead that won the race?

That's the best crazy I had ever heard of.

"Say, you kids want to go for a test drive?" Uncle Craig asked with a sneaky smile on his face.

"In your racing car?" Quigley asked in a surprised tone.

Uncle Craig shook his head sadly. "I'm afraid that thing is sentenced to the garage until the day it finally falls apart. I meant in the car your dad bought from me. Both of your parents are inside. If no one tells them, we can get away with one of you kids driving!" he explained excitedly.

"Don't say that in front of Duncan!" Quigley warned. "He just ratted out Dad twice this morning to Mom."

I glared at Duncan. "If you say anything, I'll tell Bea!"

"Tell Bea what?" he asked, acting like he didn't know what I was talking about.

"You know."

"So," Uncle Craig began flipping the keys, "who wants to go first."

"Oh, I do!" I exclaimed.

Uncle Craig tossed me the keys. "Don't kill us."

My first time driving ever was the scariest and most exciting time in my life.

"You're on the wrong side of the road!

"Watch out for that truck!"

"Get back on the road!"

I had just swerved out of the way before I drove the car head on into a large truck and kept turning unstable circles in the grass. Uncle Craig was laughing the entire time as if he knew everything was going to be alright.

As soon as I finally got the car in the direction I wanted it to go (back to Uncle Craig's house), I floored it off the grassy field and back onto the road. Swerving onto the other side of the road, braking like a mad men if I got too close to another car (fortunately, we were in the country where no one else was, so this only happened twice), and speeding down the straight road back to Uncle Craig's house with the windows down.

I figured I would never have the guts to get behind the wheel again, so why not be crazy?

When we pulled into the driveway, I knew we were all in trouble. My parents were standing outside waiting for us, as if they knew what we were doing. When they saw me stepped out of the driver's side, my mother's face turned more red than it already was, and my dad just looked amazingly confused.

We all got in trouble.

Especially me.

They made it clear that we all could've been killed, arrested, killed, oh, and killed.

And now I'm grounded.

For a month.

And I'm not supposed to be using my laptop, but everyone's asleep right now and it was literally just sitting there on the kitchen table. And I couldn't sleep. I would've left it alone if I wasn't such an insomniac.

That crazy feeling I felt while I was driving hasn't left me yet. It was such a rush of adrenaline and freedom, in a scary and twisted way. As we pulled into our driveway tonight, I saw the light from Klaus's room go off and I was reminded of my every day life and how I had recently been depressed because of the whole dance situation with Klaus. But the more I thought about all the things I could do by myself without worrying about him and Haley, I felt better. Besides, who was I to say that Klaus and Haley couldn't end up together?

My feelings toward Klaus haven't changed, and I will admit that I am still heartbroken he's been spending more time with Haley (probably soon-to-be-girlfriend), but I'm not going to let those feelings destroy me. If I'm going to go crazy, then I'm going to go in my own way.

Isadora was turning into a Bella.

So I wrote this.

"...Airplane through the sky, greyhound racing by
Dirt bike on the beach, sailboat on the sea
Don't matter much to me what it is that I do
As long as I'm coming home to you..."

~ Metropolis by Owl City

;)