The day I died was just like any other day. 

I was walking home from school, lost in my own thoughts, not paying attention to my surroundings, and the next thing I knew, I was lying on the cold concrete, blood pooling around me. I had been hit by a car, but the driver didn't stop; they just kept going, leaving me alone and dying.

It's strange, but I don't feel any bitterness or anger towards the person who killed me. I can't even say I feel sorry for myself. The truth is, my life wasn't all that exciting. As I lay there, recounting the events of my life before it slipped away, I couldn't help but feel a deep sense of sadness and well, regret. My life was never easy, but the way it ended was just cruel.

Growing up, my parents were strict with me. They had high expectations, always pushing me to study harder, get better grades, and never settle for less. They never praised me, only criticized my mistakes. My only elder sister, on the other hand, was apathetic towards me. She never cared about my well-being or how I was doing. To her, it was like I didn't even exist.

To make things worse, my relatives were always jealous of my family's success. They would talk behind our backs, spreading rumors and lies about us. It was like they wanted to see us fail.

I was a shy and anxious girl, always overthinking everything. I never felt like I belonged anywhere, and my interactions with people were always awkward and uncomfortable. I was constantly worried about what others thought of me, afraid of being judged or rejected.

Despite all this, like any other girl of my age, I still had dreams and aspirations. I wanted to do something meaningful with my life, to make a difference in the world. But the reality of my situation always brought me back down to earth. I was trapped in a life of routine and monotony, going through the motions without any real purpose or direction.

As I grew older, the weight of my struggles became too much to bear. I felt empty and worthless, like nothing I did would ever be good enough. I was drowning in a sea of negativity, unable to escape.

So when I died, I wasn't surprised. It was almost like a relief, knowing that the pain and suffering would finally be over. But at the same time, I couldn't help but feel bitter about the way things turned out. Why did I have to endure so much hardship and misery? Was this all there was to life?

I wished I had been born into a different family, one that was kind and loving. I wished I had a sister who cared about me, and friends who weren't so jealous and spiteful. Most of all, I wished I had the strength to keep going, to push through the darkness and find the light.

But now, it's too late for regrets. My life is over, and all I can do is hope that my next one will be better.

Except I didn't expect this.

***

I woke up in a grand room with high ceilings and opulent decor. Confusion and disorientation washed over me as I struggled to piece together the fragments of my memories.

My body felt different. Every movement felt strange, as if my brain and body were at odds with each other, like I was trying to navigate through a thick fog. And then, as suddenly as a bolt of lightning, I remembered everything—my previous life and my unsightly end.

My heart raced with a mix of fear and disbelief. How was this possible? How could I be alive again, and in the body of a young girl no less? It felt like a surreal nightmare.

I tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness hit me like tidal waves. The world spun around me, and I felt as if I might vomit at any moment. I groaned, my hands gripping at the sheets beneath me as I tried to steady myself. Everything was so confusing, and I had no idea what was going on. All I knew was that I was trapped in a body that wasn't my own, in a body that felt simultaneously familiar and foreign.

"Nanny, where am I?" I asked, my voice hoarse.

"You're in your bedroom, my lady," the nanny beside me replied, a hint of annoyance in her voice. "You should rest. You're always sickly, and your father won't be pleased if you're not ready for tea time."

I wanted to protest, but the words wouldn't come out of my mouth. I was too weak to argue, too confused by this new reality.

As I lay there, my thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. "Enter," the nanny said, and in walked a girl, a year or two older than me. Her strawberry-blond hair was perfectly curled, her dress was impeccable, and she currently wore a sneer on her otherwise beautiful face.

"Good morning, sister," she said, her tone icy. "Father wants to see you in his study. I hope you're not too ill to attend."

I tried to sit up again, but my body wouldn't cooperate. "I don't feel well," I managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper.

My sister rolled her eyes. "You're always sick. It's quite tiresome. Father won't tolerate it much longer. You're embarrassing our family."

I felt a pang of sadness and anger. This sister of mine didn't care for me, not one bit. But I couldn't blame her, could I? I was useless, sickly, and a burden to my family.

The nanny helped me to my feet and brushed my hair. "Come on, my lady," she said. "We can't keep your father waiting."

I stumbled behind her, my legs weak and wobbly. We walked down a long hallway, the walls adorned with expensive paintings and intricate tapestries. I felt out of place, like I didn't belong.

Finally, we arrived at my father's study. He was sitting behind a large oak desk, his face stern and unyielding. "Ah, there you are, my daughter," he said, his voice cold. "I trust you're feeling better?"

I tried to speak, but my throat was dry. "Yes, Father," I somehow croaked out.

He raised an eyebrow. "Good. We have important guests coming for tea today, and I expect you to behave accordingly. No embarrassing yourself or the family, do you understand?"

I nodded, my heart sinking. I wasn't sure how much longer I could keep up this facade. The life of a noblewoman was not what I had hoped for in my second life. But for now, I had to endure it. I had to try.

Before I left the study, I heard my father mutter to himself, "Why did I even bother with that useless girl?"

Tears welled up in my eyes as I stumbled back to my room. I was sick, mistreated, and abused. But worst of all, I was trapped in this life, with no way out.