Island

Okay. So, I'm presuming I've just become crazy.

Like, hardcore straight-jacket-and-tranquilizer crazy. The kind of crazy you think of when you pass the old woman's house on Main and you see her on her lawn trying to bite her own face.

And you are most likely asking why. Why, Adelaide Valentine, are you crazy?

Well, let me explain.

I fell asleep in England, with my best friends, and my Rottweiler, Dude, in this awesome tree house; and, now, I've seemed to have woken up on a weird island in the middle of the Crazy Ocean. (Which, in case you didn't know, is 400 knots away from Psychoticsville)

I walked out of the house, and all I see for as far as my eyes can is sand. Buttery, golden sand. That really soft kind that gets hotter than your mother's oven at Christmas time. Above that, there was a sky, light blue with those picture perfect scattered white clouds, not enough to be an omen for bad weather. Palm trees everywhere.

"HOLY JESUS, I'M ON SURVIVOR!"

Then, suddenly, a flame ignites, all along the seemingly calm coast.