Chapter 1: One Dead Girl.

Author's Note: This is a revamped version of my previous story, of the same title, "My Immortal". I have since grown considerably as both an author and a person, and am therefore re-doing the entirety of the story, with considerable editing to include a plot, and more concentrated character personalities. I have also discovered Twilight, so expect some of that thrown into this, the most awesome fanfic ever. Lastly, that ugly bitch Raven isn't helping me with this shit anymore. She's a fat whore, and she can't edit for shit! I was really counting on her last time, but she let me down, and since then… well, she can just go to hell. But anyways, back to business. Introducing the new My Immortal's first chapter, entitled "One Dead Girl."

…

As the smoke rolls into the room, I am struck with a pang of anxiety. Someone is standing under the cover of the cloud. Who? Why? The light from the hall silhouettes them, hiding all details from view. The long, black cloak is all that is discernable. I am afraid, and I'm not really sure why.

I awake with a start, the memory of the dream fading like vapor from my mind. My heart is still pounding, but I have no idea why. I push the bedcovers off and step onto the floor. It's cold. Too cold, really, for August. I walk towards the door to my room, past all of the books on the shelf, they seem hulking, out of shape. Threatening. My shin barks on the sharp corner of my altar table, which sits very low to the floor. Pain shoots through my leg so harshly I can feel it practically in my fingertips. I reach for the door-handle, but before I can grasp the cold metal, I am smothered by hands from behind.

I utter a stifled gasp, and writhe and struggle in the arms of my attacker. My heart beats so hard that I'm sure he can hear it. Without any further warning, I feel teeth on my neck, and then pain. His mouth is cold, there is no warmth of his breath, no sign that he is alive, except that he is moving, clearly living. My long black hair tangles in his face, and the ecstasy of pain sends electricity to every end of my body. I am alive, and then… nothing.

When I finally slide back into consciousness, there is a letter postmarked from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry waiting on the pillow next to my head. The shades are drawn, but I can see so well that the window may as well be open and all of the lights turned to full brightness. I tug at the corner of the drapes, and a sliver of light cuts through the room, stinging my eyes. I tear open the letter, and begin to read.

"Congratulations, we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Although typically we only accept first year applicants, your talents are well known among advisors to the faculty. Classes commence on the first Monday of September. You will be shortly receiving a package of information about what you will need for attendance. Accompanying this package will be a larger package, including the basic minimum that you will need. Because you are a special case, not only has your tuition been taken care of, but we will also provide these basic supplies. We look forward to…

My mind is reeling with what I have just read, and I have to stop. I start to sit up, and the doorbell rings. The post has arrived. There is a large envelope, and an even larger box. Both carry the same postmark as the other. The postman holds out a pad for me to sign, and I notice that the date is August 23. Wait, August 23? It's been three days? Where have I been for three days? What's going on? I sign my name, and step back into the darkness of my home, pushing the packages with my feet. I go up the step and turn into the bathing room. I turn on the hot water and let it run until steam pours out of the sink and fogs over the entirety of the mirror. I scoop up a cupful of the water in my hands and lift it to my face. As it drips down, I reach for a towel with one hand, and use the other to wipe a band of steam from the mirror. After I've dried my face, I lift it from the towel and meet the gaze of my own reflection. There I am, long black hair, big blue eyes… But something's different. I squint and look closer, and I see the red ring that surrounds each of my corneas. It's only a hairline circle, but it's definitely there. Leaning forward, I place my hands on the counter to steady myself, but pain shrieks through my hand and up my arm, and I jump back. The crimson blood pools and expands in the palm of my hand. Again, I lift my head to meet my own gaze, and instead of what many had once agreed to be a very stunning girl, I see an inhuman monster, with long white canines and fury in her eyes. Who have I become?