I'm still not quite sure what drove me to pick up that copy of Necromancy For Dummies on the way home from school that day. Maybe it how angry and frustrated I was after that conversation with Mrs. Turner about my (admittedly horrible) grades in English, or maybe it was the thrill of thinking that something interesting could happen to an ordinary high school student like me. Either way, I picked up that book, not knowing that it would ruin my life forever.

As I walked down the city streets, carrying Necromancy For Dummies, I replayed the conversation with Mrs. Turner in my head. She lectured me for a while, before giving me an assignment. I had to write a short story. If I did well, then she would give me a D instead of an F. Of course, I couldn't write, but as I looked down at the book cover, I came up with a brilliant idea.

Mrs. Turner had offhandedly mentioned in class that Oscar Wilde was her favorite author. Since I had this book, why couldn't I just resurrect Oscar Wilde and get him to do my English homework? It sounded easier than just writing a story myself, and I would get a good grade for sure. The more I thought about it, the better the idea seemed.

I went home and did my homework, but I was obsessed with my own crazy idea. I couldn't stop thinking about how genius this plan was, even as I listened to my favorite album, "Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge," on full blast to drown out my thoughts.

At 3 AM, I snuck down to the basement to perform the resurrection. I picked the method that didn't require an actual body, since I definitely didn't have the time to go to Paris and dig up Wilde's grave, not to mention that was totally illegal. The book did say that method was "somewhat unreliable and may produce unusual results," but that didn't matter, right?

Three hours and lots of ominous Latin chanting later, Oscar Wilde spontaneously appeared in my basement. Needless to say, he was a little bit confused. "Where am I?" he asked. "Who are you? What just happened?!?"

I glanced at the clock. It was just about time to get ready for school. "Listen, I don't have time to explain everything right now," I said. I tossed him a copy of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone and said, "Just wait until I get home from school. Until then, read that. If you're hungry, there's food upstairs, but don't go there until after my mom leaves for work at 7:30."

I went to school as usual, and when I got home, Wilde was completely engrossed in Harry Potter. I didn't want to bother him, so I just did my homework and left him alone.

I swear that all he did for the next few days was read. I kept wondering when he was going to figure out that I had brought him back from the dead, but instead, he raced his way through the Harry Potter series.

One day, I went down to the basement and found that Wilde had figured out how to turn on my TV. "WHOA!" he exclaimed. "This is amazing! It's a moving picture! With sound! And color!" Again, I just kind of let him do his thing. He became slightly obsessed with Buffy The Vampire Slayer, and since I also liked that show, I left him alone.

A few days later, he finally asked me who I was. "My name's Tara Gilesbie," I stated. "I brought you back from the dead, but that's because I have a job for you."

"Where are we anyways?" Wilde asked.

"We're in my basement, which is in Sandy Springs, Indiana," I replied. "The year is 2006."

"2006? That's so far in the future!" Wilde exclaimed. "What's the job?"

"I need you to write a short story for me," I said.

"I can do that!" Wilde said. "This sounds fun! I could write about Harry Potter!" I brought down my laptop for him, and he started to write. I came back a few minutes later, and I wasn't exactly thrilled with what I saw.

Hai my nam is Ebony Doria Windermeer Salome Wilde and I have long enoby black hare (dats how I got my name) with porple streeks and red tips that reaches mah mid back an icy bleu eyes liike limpid tars. I'm not relted to Oskar Wilde but I wis I was becuz he's a majur fuking hottie. Imma witch and I go to a magik skcool caled Hogwartz in Englond where Im in the 7th year (I'm sevnten). Today, I wuz weraing a red corset with mathcing lase aruond it, a long blak skirt, and blak bots. I wuz wlking outsid Hogwarts. It waz sonwoing and raning so their was no sun.

"Hey Evony!" shooted a vioce. It was... Drako Malfoi!

"Wazzup Draco?" I aksed.

"Noting," he said shyley.

But then I herd mi freidns call me an I had to go away.

AN: Is it god? Plz tell me thanx!

Okay, that may have been an understatement, but I was convinced that this mess could be turned into something genius if I could only find a beta reader.

The next day at school, I asked Mrs. Turner who her second favorite author was. She answered Edgar Allan Poe, so I decided that I would resurrect him. That night, I used Necromancy For Dummies to bring Poe back to life. I made sure to follow the directions this time, so he might retain some of his writing ability, even though I was still using the "unreliable" method, since Poe's grave was in Baltimore and I didn't have time to go there.

Two hours and lots of ominous Latin chanting later, Edgar Allan Poe appeared in my basement. "Who are you two?" he asked.

"I'm Tara Gilesbie, and this is Oscar Wilde," I said.

"Nice to meet you, Edgar," Wilde said.

"Nice to meet you too," Poe said.

"So I brought you back from the dead to edit Mr. Wilde's book," I explained, pulling up the story on my computer.

"What is that thing?" Poe asked.

"It's a computer," I said. "Here. Take a look."

Poe sat down and began to read the story. "You know, this story would be a lot better if it was gothic..." he said.

I looked at the clock again and noticed that it was time to get ready for school. "I have to go," I said. "Have fun editing."

When I got home, I went down to the basement, and Wilde and Poe were in the midst of working on the story. "My Immortal" by Evanescence was playing, so apparently they had figured out how to use the CD player. Poe informed me that they had decided to title their story after the song. "Hey Tara, do you have a boyfriend?" Poe asked me.

"Yes, why?" I asked.

"What's his name?"

"Justin," I replied.

"Great. Oscar, add that in somewhere," Poe said. Wilde did so, and then showed me the first chapter of My Immortal.

AN: Special fangz (get it, coz Im ) 2 my gf (ew not in that way) , 4 helpin me wif da story and spelling. U rok! Justin ur da luv of my deprzzing life u rok 2! MCR ROX!

Hi my name is Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way and I have long ebony black hair (that's how I got my name) with purple streaks and red tips that reaches my mid-back and icy blue eyes like limpid tears and a lot of people tell me I look like Amy Lee (AN: if u don't know who she is get da hell out of here!). I'm not related to Gerard Way but I wish I was because he's a major fucking hottie. I'm a but my teeth are straight and white. I have pale white skin. I'm also a witch, and I go to a magic school called Hogwarts in England where I'm in the seventh year (I'm seventeen). I'm a goth (in case you couldn't tell) and I wear mostly black. I love Hot Topic and I buy all my clothes from there. For example today I was wearing a black corset with matching lace around it and a black leather miniskirt, pink fishnets and black combat boots. I was wearing black lipstick, white foundation, black eyeliner and red eye shadow. I was walking outside Hogwarts. It was snowing and raining so there was no sun, which I was very happy about. A lot of stared at me. I put up my middle finger at them.

"Hey Ebony!" shouted a voice. I looked up. It was.... Draco Malfoy!

"What's up Draco?" I asked.

"Nothing." he said shyly.

But then, I heard my friends call me and I had to go away.

AN: IS it good? PLZ tell me fangz!

"Who's Raven?" I asked.

"Edgar Allan Poe, obviously," Wilde replied.

"Yeah, it's like my code name," Poe added.

"And how did you guys come up with all of those references?" I asked.

"We went into your room," Poe explained. "You have some pretty cool gothic posters, Tara."

"Yes, but I definitely did not say that quote that's in your room," Wilde said.

"Which quote?" I asked.

"Be yourself. Everyone else is already taken," Wilde said. "I didn't say that. I don't know who did, but it wasn't me."

"Good to know," I said. "By the way, I should probably explain a few things about the future to you two." I figured that they could both use a lesson on what's happened over the last hundred years or so, even though they probably shouldn't have been listening to a sixteen year old who's getting a C in History. It was a little awkward to explain stuff like the Holocaust, but I'd like to think that I did a decent job. I finished with, "To sum things up, you can't get arrested for being gay, but you can get arrested for marrying your thirteen year old cousin. Any questions?"

Both Poe and Wilde shook their heads, and we called it a day.

For some reason, I still thought that My Immortal was salvageable. Sure, the plot so far was ridiculous and all of the "gothic" stuff was silly, but I was dealing with two of the greatest authors of all time! Even if I had screwed up their brains during the resurrection, I was certain that there must be some hidden brilliance in there.

When I got home from school the next day, I decided to do my homework in the basement so I could check on Wilde and Poe at the same time. "I'm telling you, we should totally kill off Ebony!" Poe exclaimed.

"Why would we do that?" Wilde asked.

"Because I'm writing it, and I have to incorporate the death of a beautiful woman into this story," Poe explained. "Ebony is the only beautiful woman here, so we have to kill her."

"I have a solution," Wilde said. "We'll make a new character, and you can kill her off if you want. But don't kill off Ebony! She's perfect!" Wilde then started typing.

My friend Wilow (AN: Raven dis is u!) wok up den and grinnded at me.

"No, you're spelling it all wrong!" Poe shouted. He grabbed the laptop and attempted to fix the sentence.

My friend, Willow (AN: Raven dis is u!) woke up then and grinned at me.

"See?" Poe said. "Much better."

They continued to write about Ebony, Willow, and Draco going to a Good Charlotte concert. I liked GC, but the concert scene was written pretty badly. I was still convinced that this story would get better though.

Over the next few days, My Immortal managed to get even worse. Chapter 4 mostly consisted of a badly written sex scene between Ebony and Draco, complete with Dumbledore coming in to scream "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING YOU MOTHERFUCKERS?!" Wilde attempted to justify this by saying that "Dumbledore had a headache," but that was kind of a dumb excuse.

One day, I came home from school to find that the door was blocked by a gigantic stack of cardboard boxes. I tried to move all of them so I could get in the house, but this took me a while, and I was still moving boxes when my mother came home.

"Tara, where did all of those boxes come from?" Mom asked me as I was bringing the last two boxes inside.

"I have no idea," I answered.

"Well, they must have come from somewhere," Mom stated as she opened up one of the boxes, which happened to contain an Evanescence poster, a copy of The Scarlet Letter, and a bunch of Victorian era cosplay stuff. "Well, I'm absolutely certain that I didn't order this. Tara?"

"It's a gift for my friend," I lied.

"All of this is a gift for your friend?" Mom said incredulously.

"Uhh...yeah," I said. "Here, I'll take it down to the basement." I took all of the boxes and started bringing them into the basement. Poe and Wilde were in the middle of a writing session when I got down there.

"He had a sexy English accent," Wilde said as he was typing into the computer. "He looked exactly like Joel Madden. He was so sexy that my body went all hot when I saw him, kind of like an erection. Oh crap, Ebony's a girl!" Poe rolled his eyes as Wilde added, "Only I'm a girl so I didn't get one. You sicko."

"You really can't write a female protagonist, can you?" I commented.

Clearly, Wilde wasn't listening, because he continued to write. "'I'm so sorry,' he said in a shy voice. 'That's all right. What's your name?' I questioned. 'My name's Harry Potter...'"

"Stop!" Poe exclaimed. "Harry's such a preppy name. Let's change it to something more gothic."

"But his name is Harry in the books," Wilde said. "We can't just change it because you feel like it."

"We're changing it to Vampire Potter," Poe said. "Vampire is a gothic name."

Wilde groaned and added in that "most people call him Vampire these days." I supposed this kind of made sense. Even before I resurrected Poe, his names were pretty ludicrous. I mean, Montresor? Really?

"Hey, do you guys have any idea where all of these boxes came from?" I asked.

"Ooh, all of the stuff I ordered came!" Wilde exclaimed as he took one of the boxes and opened it. "Yes! All seven seasons of Buffy The Vampire Slayer!"

"So you ordered ALL of this?" I said.

"Well, some of it is Edgar's, but most of it's mine. I have the simplest tastes," he said as he opened another box. "I am always satisfied with the best."

"Okay, but don't order any more stuff, okay?" I said. "My mom almost found out that you two are down here."

"Okay Tara," Wilde and Poe said in unison, and they continued to write.

I went down to the basement again the next morning, since I didn't have school that day. "Hey Tara!" Wilde exclaimed. "How are you doing?"

I groaned. "Annabelle apparently converted to Satanism. She won't shut up about it."

"What's Satanism?" Poe asked me.

"It's when you worship the devil," Wilde explained.

"THAT'S SO GOTHIC!" Poe shouted. "Oscar, we have to put that in My Immortal!" Wilde rolled his eyes, but Poe continued. "While we're at it, we should kill off Ebony."

"For the last time, we're not killing off Ebony," Wilde stated as he put on one of the sweaters that he bought during his online shopping spree. "I made Willow so you could write about the death of a beautiful woman, if that's what you want."

"But Ebony is more beautiful than Willow," Poe argued. "Nice sweater, by the way."

"Thanks," Wilde said, smiling.

"Can I borrow it?" Poe asked.

"No, it's mine," Wilde said. "Buy your own sweater."

"But Tara said that we can't buy anything else," Poe said.

"Then I guess you can't wear this amazingly sexy sweater," Wilde stated.

I didn't get what the big deal was. Wilde's sweater wasn't that cool. "Aren't you two supposed to be writing?" I said.

"Yeah, we should do that," Wilde said as he took the laptop and started writing again. Of course, Poe and Wilde immediately started to bicker over whether or not to kill off Ebony, and I tried to tune them out by putting on my headphones and listening to Panic! At The Disco.

Wilde and Poe added in several more chapters of My Immortal that day. Highlights included a battle scene with Voldemort, Hagrid screaming "I may be a Hogwarts student...but I am also a Satanist!", Poe changing Hermione's name to "B'loody Mary Smith," and Wilde forcing in some weird, awkward love triangle between Ebony, Draco, and "Vampire." Basically, Ebony is in love with both Draco and Vampire, but both of them are also in love with her, as well as each other, but "Snap" and "Loopin" also thought Ebony was hot, and so did "Snaketail" and "Hargrid"...ugh, never mind. I get confused just thinking about this insane plot.

A few days later, I went down to the basement and found Wilde working on My Immortal. "What are you writing about now?" I asked him.

"Oh, I'm just doing the scene where my protagonist rejects the love of their life, and then does nothing while said love goes on to commit suicide," Wilde explained.

"You're plagiarizing yourself," I noted.

"No I'm not," Wilde insisted.

"You literally stole that from The Picture of Dorian Gray," I said. "Dorian did the exact same thing to Sybil."

"But I'm changing it!" Wilde argued. "Draco comes back two chapters later with no explanation at all!"

I facepalmed and then said, "That is possibly the dumbest plot twist I have ever heard."

"What? It happened to Edgar and I, so why can't it happen to Draco?" Wilde asked.

I didn't bother to answer that. I just started working on my homework. The basement was probably a terrible place to do homework now that I had Oscar Wilde and Edgar Allan Poe living there, but listening to them argue over whether or not to kill off Ebony kept me awake while I was trying to do my math.

Things got interesting the next day. I went down to the basement as usual, and Poe and Wilde were already arguing.

"EDGAR ALLAN POE! GIVE ME BACK MY SWEATER!" Wilde screamed.

"No way!" Poe exclaimed. "Finders keepers, Oscar Fingal O'Flahertie...oh, whatever. You have way too many middle names."

"Give me back my sweater or else," Wilde said.

"Never!" Poe shouted. "It's my sweater now."

"No, it's mine! Give it back!"

"Why do you want it so badly anyways? It's just a sweater," Poe said. "It's not like you have any girls to impress while you're living down here."

"Maybe I'm trying to impress a guy instead," Wilde said.

"Wait, what?" Poe said.

"Edgar, I'm in love with you," Wilde said. "I think I've been in love with you ever since we met. I know you probably don't feel the same way, but..."

"Oscar, just stop," Poe interrupted. "You're right. You're a stuck up, half-witted prep, and I honestly could not care less about you. I'll never give you your sweater back, and I definitely don't like you like that. I'm not even sure if I like you as a friend."

That was when I went back upstairs to do my homework, while Wilde and Poe kept arguing. I don't know exactly what happened after that argument, but I do know that when I went down to the basement the next day, Poe was giving Wilde the silent treatment, and Wilde was working on My Immortal. I looked over his shoulder and saw what he was writing.

AN: u no wut! sut up ok! proov 2 me ur nut prepz! raven u suk u fuken bich gimme bak mah fukijn swteet ur supsd 2 rit dis! Raven wtf u bich ur suposd to dodis!

Ebony and Draco then went to a My Chemical Romance concert, even though the band ended up being "Volsemort and da Death Dealers!" I don't get it either. That scene was followed by this little gem.

"BTW Willow that fucking poser got expuld. she failed al her klasses and she skepped math." (an: RAVEN U FUKIN SUK! FUK U!)

"It serves that fuking bich right." I laughed angrily.

Well anyway we where felling all deprezzed. We wutsched some goffic movies like Das niteMARE b4 xmas. "Maybe Willow will die too." I said.

"Kawai." B'loody Mair shook her head enrgtically lethrigcly. "Oh yeah o have a confession after she got expuld I murdered her and den loopin did it with her cause he's a necphilak."

"Kawai." I commnted happily . We talked to each other in silence for da rest uv da movie.

"So did Poe just stop working on this?" I asked Wilde.

He nodded and said, "I'm keeping all of the gothic stuff in there just in case Edgar Allan Poe, who I hate, comes back."

"Okay then," I said. I watched Wilde write some more. Even though Poe was gone, he still credited him in every single author's note. Willow even came back in the next chapter, complete with "a really nice body wif big bobs and everything." My guess is that Wilde was just trying to show Poe that Willow wasn't a carbon copy of him, but I'm not really sure. Either way, Poe still refused to edit My Immortal.

I decided to talk to Poe about it a few days later. "You really need to work on My Immortal," I explained. "It's turning into a complete disaster."

"Oscar can do it himself," Poe stated. "I've promised to never associate myself with him again, and I'm not going back on that."

"But you have to," I said. "Wilde's adding these completely nonsensical plot twists, and when he's not doing that, he's going on and on about how hot sensitive bi guys are or coming up with another way to misspell his main character's name. You have to fix it."

"No," Poe said. "I refuse to touch that piece of filth."

"Suit yourself," I said. "I have another question anyways."

"What is it?" Poe asked.

"How did you die?" I asked.

Poe shrugged. "I don't remember. Anything else?"

"How would you define depression?"

"It's a device that you use to make your story more gothic," Poe answered.

I sighed and then said, "I guess that's all. I'll talk to you later, Poe."

I think that it was around this time that I realized that I would never be able to turn My Immortal in to Mrs. Turner. With each new chapter of the story, it seemed more and more apparent that I would have to do this myself if I wanted to get an A. I didn't know what to write about though.

One day, I went into the basement to find that Wilde and Poe had started talking to each other again. Of course, they were arguing, but it was an improvement, right?

"Sometimes I think that the worst thing that has happened in my life - or undeath, I suppose - is you," Wilde said. "The truth is rarely pure and never simple, but I will try my best. I hate everything about you, Edgar Allan Poe, and I wish that I never had to share this place with you. You've done nothing but criticize my ideas and ravage our book with your silly gothic schemes. There is no sin except stupidity, but stupidity seems to be something that you possess in abundance."

"Yeah, well you're a prep!" Poe screamed.

And that was when Oscar Wilde gave him what can best be described as a dude-you're-so-retarded look.

"It's adorable how much you two hate each other," I commented, but they didn't seem to be listening, so I went back upstairs.

A few hours later, I heard someone knock on my door. I opened the door and saw Wilde standing there. "Get back in the basement!" I exclaimed. "My mom's going to come home soon!"

"Tara, I just had a question," Wilde stated. "When was the earliest period in which there were goths?"

"Probably the 80s," I replied. "Why do you ask?"

"Thank you, that's all I needed to know," Wilde said as he sprinted back into the basement.

When I went into the basement the next day, I saw that Wilde had started working on the newest chapter of My Immortal. "Ebony traveled back in time to the 80s," he explained. "Tell me what you think."

"Hi," I said flirtily. "Im Enoby Way." I shok my pale handz wif him. He wuz wearin a blak suit wit a blower hat bcuz it was da 80s.

"Da name's Tom," he said. "But u kan call me Satan. Datz ma middle nam."

We shok hands. "Well come on we have 2 go upstairs." Satan said. I followed him an saw his bradn new elketrik lites. "Hey Satan........do u happen to be a fan of Johnnez Brams?" (sinz mcr and evinezenz dont exist yet den) I asked.

"Oh my fuking god, how did u know?" Satan gasped. "actually I like Richerd Stross a lot too." (geddit coz he did that song that's ounded really 80s)

"omg me too!" I replied happily.

"guess what he haz a concert in hogsment." satan whispered.

"hogsment?" I asked.

"yeah that's what they used to call it in these time before it became Hogsmeade in 1900." he told me all sekrtivly. "and theres a really cool shop called Hot-"

'topic!" I finshed, happy again.

He froned confusedly. "noo its called Hot Ishoo." He smiled skrtvli again. "then in 1898 dey changd it to hot topic." he moaned. "Itz wher i buy al of me bowler hats."

"ohh." now everything was making sense for me. "so is dumblydor your princepill?" I shouted.

"uh-huh. im in slitherin'"

"OMfG SHME TOO!" I SHRIEDKED.

"You know, when I said the 80s, I meant the 1980s, not the 1880s," I said.

"Wait, what?" Poe said. "You were talking about the 1880s? No wonder I was confused! I was thinking that you were trying to write about the 1780s!"

"You read this?" I asked.

"Yes, Edgar Allan Poe, who I hate, read this and complained about everything," Wilde stated.

"Well anyways, goths didn't exist until the 1980s," I explained.

"I'll fix it then," Wilde said as he continued to type.

Over the next few days, Wilde introduced some crazy plot where Ebony (or Enoby, or Evony, or Egogy, or TaEbory, or whatever the misspelling of the day is) had to seduce Tom Satan Bombadil to prevent him from becoming Voldemort. However, Ebony/Enoby/Evony/Egogy/TaEbory finds out about Satan's ex Hedwig (who is inexplicably made into a sexy gothic blond bi guy, instead of the female owl that she is in canon) and makes them get back together. Again, I don't get it either.

One day, I went into the basement to find that Poe was playing "You Know What They Do To Guys Like Us In Prison" by My Chemical Romance very loudly.

Now, but I can't

And I don't know

How we're just two men as God had made us

Well, I can't...well, I can!

Too much, too late, or just not enough of this

Pain in my heart for your dying wish

I'll kiss your lips again.

They all cheat at cards and the checkers are lost,

My cellmate's a killer, they make me do push-ups (in drag)

But nobody cares if you're losing yourself...am I losing myself?!

Well, I miss my mom,

Will they give me the chair

Or lethal injection or swing from a rope if you dare

Ah, nobody knows...all the trouble I've seen!

"Turn that off!" Wilde exclaimed. "It's giving me flashbacks..."

"You were in prison?" Poe asked.

"I don't want to talk about it," Wilde stated.

"Well, at least you didn't have to watch everyone you love die!" Poe shouted. "My mother, adoptive mother, and my wife all died! I bet that your life wasn't that miserable!"

"It was that miserable! You don't know me, Edgar Allan Poe Who I Hate, so don't pretend that you do," Wilde said.

"Can you both please shut up?" I asked, and thankfully, they did.

The next day featured a somewhat strange turn of events. I went downstairs and found Wilde staring at the computer. "Did I really write this dreadful tale?" he asked. "What have I done?!? I must fix this immediately!"

Wilde immediately began to type, and I watched as he did so.

The American retail wearing British vampire Sue coughed up blood.

Satan kneeled down beside her. "Noooooooooooooooo! Don't die!"

She gave him a rueful smile. "I'm sorry. It's something I had to do, to fulfill my duty as the noble gothic Mary Sue."

Satan sobbed. "I love you Ebony."

"I love you too. I'll...I'll see you in hell," she mumbled, already finding her surroundings fading to black.

B'loody Mary Smith suddenly popped into the room for no apparent reason. She frowned when she realized the room was oddly quiet, but at the sight of Ebony's lifeless body, she screamed. Her face became pale with horror. She screamed for the healers, Dumbledore, Mcgoogle, and every single gothic person she could think of.

Suddenly, a glow started to surround the body of Ebony. Everyone stared in shock. Her body started to lift ever so slowly and then, to everyone's shock, it started to incinerate.

When everyone realized what was happening, they rushed over to try to rescue the body, but it was too late, the Sue became nothing more than a pile of ashes.

A loud resounding of everyone bellowing "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO...!!" filled the room.

A flash of white light from the ashes then started to bounce around the room. Everyone cowered in fear and was temporarily blinded. When it was all over, things changed.

All the silly goth clothes dropped from everyone's bodies (AN: I refuse to explain how the hell that happened) and, in their place, clothes the characters would normally wear in canon appeared on their bodies.

When everyone got over the shock of becoming free of the gothic power, everybody cheered. Everyone started singing 'Ding dong the sue is dead...' Well, that is, until all the Harry Potter characters realized the true implications of becoming more canon like again.

All the characters who were supposed to be dead fell to the floor, their bodies cold and lifeless. Harry and Voldemort started duelling. On the left side of the two, the battle of the Light Side and the Dark Side was reaching a climax.

And, because the replacement author also likes to screw around with canon, Draco and Hermione fled the scene and got married.

Meanwhile...

Down in Hell, Ebony shed a single tear because of her current situation, a situation that would live on for all eternity, or at least until the end of fanfiction time.

She lost it all, but she knew she had to remain strong. Nothing would ever break her down.

She looked down over her pale body, and frowned. 'Where are my emo clothes?' she asked herself in confusion.

And then it occurred to her...

For her shirt, she was wearing a bright pink polo with a little seagull on the (right or left? I can't remember) side. Below that, she was wearing a denim miniskirt with the "destroyed" look on it. Paired underneath that skirt were leggings with a little moose at the bottom. And then Ebony realized, on her shoulder, she was carrying a pretty bag with an eagle on it that said Live Your Life written all over the bag.

Ebony suppressed the urge to scream. Here, she was decked out in preppy clothes to the extreme, wearing stuff from Abercrombie and Fitch, American Eagle, AND Hollister.

Panicked, Ebony hastily tried to take off the Hollister polo, but underneath it, there was another Hollister polo underneath. Ebony frowned, and looked under her shirt. All she saw was a bra underneath (dare I point out it's from the Aerie line available at American Eagle?). Ebony tried to remove the shirt again. But to her frustration, there was yet again another polo to replace it.

"THIS IS ILLOGICAL AND DOES NOT MAKE ANY SENSE!!" Ebony bellowed out to the air. She failed to see the irony in her statement, how hypocritical her words were, seeing as she was practically calling the kettle black here.

Ebony slit her wrists and mumbled to herself, "Oh my God."

The End

"Now that Ebony is dead, I can stop writing this ridiculous story!" Wilde exclaimed as he finished.

"Wait, what?" Poe said. "You killed off Ebony without me?"

"Yes I did," Wilde said.

"You should have told me! I wanted to kill her!" Poe argued.

"I refuse to keep working on this," Wilde said. "Art is the only serious thing in the world, and the artist is the only person who is never serious. Therefore, I could not have possibly been taking myself seriously while I was writing this nonsense."

"See? This is why I don't talk to you," Poe said as he walked away.

Wilde just gave Poe a wistful glance before turning on the TV and watching yet another episode of Buffy The Vampire Slayer. Later that day, he also edited the short story that I was working on.

Unfortunately, Wilde's bout of sanity didn't last long. The next day, he was right back to writing My Immortal, completely ignoring what he had written the day before.

Things got even more interesting the day after that. I got home from school, and I saw my mom standing near the doorway. She looked really ticked off. Poe and Wilde were lounging around in the living room, strangely enough.

"Tara, I think we need to have a chat," Mom said.

"Sure, what is it?" I asked.

"I finally got around to cleaning out the basement this morning, and I found these two gentlemen who seem to be a little confused as to which century they're in. Care to explain?"

"They're...uh...they're my friends!" I said. I went into the living room and Mom followed me. "Mom, I'd like to introduce you to Oscar Wilde and Edgar Allan Poe."

"Tara, this better not be some kind of cruel joke..." Mom began, but Poe interrupted her.

"It's true," he said. "I am Edgar Allan Poe, and that's Oscar Wilde."

"But how?" Mom said. "You're both supposed to be dead!" That was when I had to explain everything to my mom, from how I brought back Wilde and Poe to do my English homework to the current status of My Immortal. After I did that, Mom asked, "So what are we going to do with them? I still can't believe that you brought Oscar Wilde and Edgar Allan Poe back to life."

"Can they please stay?" I asked. "Neither of them really have anywhere else to go."

"Besides, we're almost finished with My Immortal," Wilde added.

Mom sighed. "Fine. They can stay here for now," she finally said.

"Thanks Mom!" I exclaimed, and Wilde, Poe, and I raced into the basement. Wilde immediately started working on My Immortal again, and Poe picked up a book and began to read.

A few days later, Poe went over to Wilde and asked him what he was working on. "The last chapter of My Immortal," he said.

"Can I help?" Poe asked.

"Wait, what?" Wilde said. "You want to help me?"

"Yes I do," Poe said. "Listen, I'm really sorry about everything. I know I already gave you back your sweater, but I've been really awful to you this whole time. I want to fix that."

Wilde sighed. "I suppose you can help," he said.

Wilde moved over so that Poe could reach the keyboard, and the two of them began to work on the final chapter of My Immortal. The ending went something like this.

"Think again you fucking muggle poser!!!!!1" Harry yelled and then he and Diablo and Navel both took out blak guns! But Voldimort took out his own one.

"U guyz are in a Latin stand-of!!!!!!!111" I shouted despariedrly.

"Acco Nevel's wand!!!11" cried Voldrimort nd suddenly Nevil's wind was in his hands. "Now I shall kill thee all and Evony u will die!!!!!!!!11111"

He maid lighting come all over da place.

"Save us Ebony!" Dumbledark cried.

I cried sexily I just wanted 2 go 2 the commen room and slit my wrists with mi friends while we watched Shark Attak 3 and Saw 2 and do it with Draco but I knew I had 2 do somefing more impotent.

"ABRA KEDABRA!!!!!!!!!!!11111" I shooted.

"Ebony killed herself," Poe said, smiling. "What a satisfying ending."

"I just can't believe that we're really done," Wilde commented.

Meanwhile, I was busy working on my own short story. It was due the next day, and I still needed to write the ending. All of their chatter was distracting me, so I went upstairs to work on it.

The next day, I finally turned my short story in to Mrs. Turner. "Very nice," she said as she looked it over. "Did anyone help you with this?"

"Uhh...yeah," I said. "My friends Oscar and Edgar looked it over."

Mrs. Turner smiled. "Well, I'm very impressed, Tara."

"Mrs. Turner, you would not believe the hell I went through to write that story," I explained. I considered telling her everything that had happened, but I realized that she would never believe me.

This would forever be my dirty little secret.