Dear Anon,
Does not compute! Does not compute! Your comment will self-destruct in three seconds!
Love,
Tracie
I made a shocking revelation today. Tara is not a horrible writer... no... she may not even be a Gothic. No, she is really... an alcoholic. My Immortal is the result of her attempting to write while drunk. Several factors went into this assumption.
1) Her typos were typically very simple words, and, if you look at the misspellings, you will see that the right key was very close, or right next to the one she hit instead. Such as a drunk person's fingers would slip over the keyboard, and she would be too drunk to work the backspace button.
2) The very basis of the story. Everyone who's ever been drunk and tried to write a fanfiction while drunk will tell you that nothing made sense (I once wrote a Twilight fanfiction. Enough said.) The fact that Tara does not explain things, which is why a reader will suddenly realize that something rather dramatic is happening rather abruptly.
3) The length of the chapters. Again, referring to my own drunken fanfiction adventures, my epic tale featured all the vampires contracting a disease that caused them to grow a second head. Thing story was, from start to finish, no more than a page long.
4) Mistaking the character names, when she had previously gotten them right, is also a clue. Snape, right off the top of my head, was Snoop, Snap, and Pedophile Rapist who was Homosexual yet Still Wanted to Rape Tara.
There are many more reasons, but I feel I am rambling. If you would like a full list, feel free to contact me by a) owl, b) smoke signal, or c) if you want to do it the hard way, via FF.
There's one sentence in here I couldn't bring myself to change. You'll know it when you see it.
On with the story, my noble steed!
"Whu... what the fuck are we doin... doing here?" I asked, realizing we were in the Forbidden Forest.
"You walked here, in case you don't remember!" Draco snapped, pulling me along, "or, more like it, I dragged you halfway here."
My hands were tingling... didn't that mean that you had superpowers? As if being a witch wasn't amazing enough, in the morning I was faced with the possibility of being able to shoot lazer beams or some shit out of my eyes. I laughed, excited, imagining the things I could do with lazer vision at my disposal.
I stopped dead in my tracks, whipped my hand from Draco's, and clutched his shoulder. Wobbling, likely to fall over at any second, I reached as far as my drunken state would allow me to and kissed him.
If he was opposed to taking advantage of a drunk girl, he certainly didn't show it. Instantly, he went from being angry, to eagerly kissing me back, putting his hands on my back, and pulling me closer to him. I backed away for a moment, ripped my shirt off over my head, and threw it on the forest floor, setting about doing the same to Draco's. How in the hell did he manage to put the thing on? It seemed so complex... Eventually, he took it off himself. In moments, both of us were fully undressed.
It hit me: the only thing I had been able to do easily tonight was get undressed. Was alcohol created simply to make sex easier? I could picture that... a bunch of sex-crazed old men, trying to figure out a way to woo women.
Well - their plan certainly worked.
Then he put his thingie in my you-know-what and we did it for the first time.
After only a few seconds, Draco whipped his head to the side, a look of horror over his face. "I think someone's coming," he whispered, looking as though he was imaging the many manners death that his father could inflict upon him for this.
"Ah - what do we have here?" Called a figure, who was emerging from the darkness.
It was Dumbledore.
Fuck.
I do pray you guys could pick Tara's sentence from what I wrote.
By the way... when my recently acquired noble steed saw what kind of battle I was driving him into, he bucked me off, and ran into the sunset without me. I had to complete this stage of Operation Save Fanfiction all on my own.
Forever alone.