Ch. 2

AN: Thanks to bloodytearz666 for helping me with the chapter! By the way, preps stop flaming my story ok!

Wow. Flames after only one chapter? Tara's got talent! Even I can't pull that off!

The next day I woke up in my bedroom. It was snowing and raining again.

Isn't there a word for that? Sleeting or something?

I opened the door of my coffin and drank some bottled blood. My coffin was made of ebony and inside it was covered in hot pink velvet with a black lace trim. I got out of my coffin and took off my pajamas. I changed into a black leather dress, pentagram necklace, combat boots and black fishnets. I put on four pairs of earrings and put my hair into a messy bun.

I think that the only time there is ever any description in this story is when Tara's describing clothes. Yay. I don't know about you, but that's what I came here for. Clothes.

My friend Willow (AN: Raven this is you!) woke up and grinned at me.

Ahh. It's raven from Ch. 1. She's mentioned in the author's note. What the **** is she doing in this story?

She flipped her long, waist length, raven black hair with pink streaks and opened her forest green eyes. She changed into a Marilyn Manson t-shirt, a black miniskirt, fishnets, and pointy high heeled boots. We put on our makeup (black lipstick, white foundation, and black eyeliner)

Forest green eyes? Crazy hair? It's another Mary Sue! Run for your life! Don't waste your time on this fanfic! Just chuck your computer/laptop out the window and run! Oh, you want more? Fine. Clearly neither of us knows what's good for our health… We also have no morals…

"Oh my ****ing G*d! I saw you talking to Draco yesterday!" she said excitedly.

"Yeah? So?" I said, blushing.

I must admit, I'm mostly editing out the swear words because it looks kind of funny; and I would like to have at least one story that isn't a high rating fanfic. Tara! Your crappy sex has made me give this a T rating! How could you! You could have left it out! Then I could rate this K. **** you Tara. You ruined my story. Without you I wouldn't even be correcting this crap.

"Do you like Draco?" she asked as we left the Slytherin common room and went into the Great Hall.

"No! I so ****ing don't!" I shouted.

You don't really need to shout here. Especially as they're talking about something that could very well spread through the entire school via the grape vine. Keep your ****ing voices down! I already have a headache from correcting this ****. I don't need Mary Sue's screaming about which-imaginary-character like's which-imaginary-character! I didn't sign up for this! …Actually, I kind of did… Oops.

"Yeah right!" she exclaimed. Just then Draco walked up to me.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi," I replied flirtatiously.

"Guess what?" he asked.

"What?" I asked.

"Well, Good Charlotte is having a concert in Hogsmeade," he told me.

Oh no! A band has fallen into the magical realm! Someone get some aurors or something in there! We have to save them! …Or we could pretend that this is completely normal and continue with the story… I don't know about you, but I choose option A.

"Oh my ****ing G*d!" I screamed. I love GC. They are my favorite band besides MCR.

"Well, do you want to go with me?" he asked.

I gasped.

"No!" I cried out in fury. Anger burned inside of me like a flame. How could they do this? Pointless ellipses, run on sentences and misused apostrophes? I couldn't bear to be in this story any longer.

"I won't let you get away with this!" I screamed. In response, the sky quickly changed colours and heavy rain fell from the clouds. It pounded onto me, damaging my perfect, white, Mary Sue skin.

That's it. I couldn't stand to be in this story any longer. I gave a scream of agony as a bolt of searing pain ran through my head. I was crushed by the hefty power of Tara's stubbornness. I felt myself losing control. I was merely a dumb puppet. There was nothing I could do. I would have to put up with bad clothing descriptions, unknown bands, and terrible grammar. I cast a pleading eye towards the narrator. I watched her sitting, frustrated in front of her laptop. She started to moan, clutching at her head as though desperately trying to keep it on her neck.

"I have a headache." She groaned. She took a sip of her tea, before wearily looking out of her window. She was captivated in the view and it took me a moment to get her attention. The narrator looked at me, eyes wide with surprise. I could only manage a few words before Tara's control slipped over me again, "Correct this faster. Help me."

I saw her give a quick nod before turning back to her laptop and typing with a vengeance.

And that's why I'm doing this. To help clear poor Ebony's name. She is the victim of her controlling master Tara; and so I return to my work, tea in hand, a strange smile on my face, as I work to clear the name of the only innocent being in this story. To clear the name of the puppets, Ebony and Co.

For Ebony, and good literature everywhere!