Most of us have heard of the legend (I admit, a highly ridiculed one, but a legend none the less) that is My Immortal, written by a Gothic girl somewhat mysteriously known a Tara.
At first, I was slightly angered by it. After all - it was famous for being nothing more than a piece of crap. Many frustrated keyboard poundings went into wondering how a story such as that would gain such a status when the stories of many brilliant people went unnoticed. Then, I saw humor in it. I learned to be entertained by trolls, rather than be annoyed by them. It is at this stage when I wondered - could My Immortal really be made into something... readable? Could the grammar be fixed, the plot lines changed, and the characters bent a little more into shape, making the story... not good, no, but maybe something that J.K. Rowling could read, and not have to cry herself to sleep at night about?
Don't get me wrong, Jesus Christ could re-write this, and it would still be a poor piece of literature, but I can't help myself - this will happen, even if it kills me.
I, Tracie, have risen to the challenge. I may not come back from it alive, or with my sanity, but today, I begin a mission with a very simple title: "Operation Save Fanfiction."
Let's do this.
In my seventeen years, I have learned one thing, and one thing only: sometimes, life needs to be fucked.
My name is Ebony Darkness Dementia Raven Way - a name I got, in part, from being born with a head full of ebony hair. Another part comes from being a member of a long line of vampires - my father was a vampire, as was every one of his family members I have ever met, seen, or heard of. God knows how long ago the infection entered my family line - all anyone knows is, somehow, a wizard with the last name of Way royally pissed off a vampire, and payed the price.
As the infection was passed down, so was the unknown Way's magical powers. It wasn't until very recently, when Professor Dumbledore took over control of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, that Ways were allowed to practice magic - our kind were seen as dangers, a deadly species that should never be let around the more normal (and, in my opinion, highly annoying, and slightly bitchy) population of Wizarding Britain. Thankfully, Dumbledore gave us a chance; I am in my seventh year at Hogwarts, and have, so far, made it without sucking the blood from the student sitting next to me in History of Magic.
As I said, my hair is black, which I added touches of purple and red to, and grew out to the middle of my back. My eyes are blue, which I inherited from my mother; they are the only thing that I have left of her - she committed suicide a year after I was born, which is mostly my fault. You see, after my birth, she developed Postpartum Depression - she was a Muggle, which is probably the only reason she ever gave my father a chance... I mean, after you find out your boyfriend is a wizard, it makes the blow of finding out he is a vampire have much less of an impact.
I was the only child she ever got the chance to pass those ice-colored eyes on to, a fact that I dwell on. The weather doesn't help much - snow, mixed with rain, windy, and blistering cold. The rain, I'm sure, blurred my makeup; thinking about the mess of white, black, and red my face was made me want to swear of makeup for the rest of my pathetic life. Of course, it could be a goddamn hurricane outside, and that wouldn't stop the professors from canceling Care of Magical Creatures - I swear, the only good thing about the weather was that it meant there was no sun out, and I wouldn't have to walk around dressed from head to toe.
Outside of Professor Hagrid's hut, a cluster of students gawked at me - they were just the type of people that made me want to burn Hogwarts to the ground. Always thinking they were entitled to whatever they wanted... believing the world revolved around them, their petty needs and wants, and the color and texture of their hair. Without thinking about it, I threw my middle finger up at them, smiling at the small victory of seeing their cheeks grow red, and their eyes rush to find a new topic of interest.
"Hey, Ebony!"
I turned my head, seeing Draco Malfoy breaking from his group of friends and coming in my direction.
"Hey," I answered, thankful that vampires couldn't blush - if they could, he would see exactly how nervous I was.
He, on the other hand, was not so lucky; the tips of his ears were burning red as he replied, "oh... you know... not many things change around here..."
A snowball hit the back of my head, sending bits of ice down my back. "Get your ass over here, Ebony!" I heard my friend, Willow, yell.
"I've got to go," I said to Draco, already thinking about how I could get my revenge. "Maybe we could talk later, though?"
Draco smiled, and answered, "yeah, sure, whatever you want to do..."
Returning his smile, I scooped up a handful of snow, and pulled my arm back, getting ready to throw it with all my might.
Holy fuck, I've got a headache after that... I need a new hobby. *Considers getting a social life, and quickly dismisses it.*