"I've always felt out of sync with everyone around me—stumbling through life, miserable. Everyone thinks I'm not normal, and they're right. I am not normal. I don't want to be normal!!"
Isabella Swan flipped through the diary her predecessor had left behind. From the writing, it was clear the original Isabella had some psychological issues. Years of rejection had worn her down.
To fit in, she forced herself to play along—teachers, classmates, her mother, and yeah, her mom's current husband too.
She joined school clubs, went shopping with the girls, watched the boys play basketball, awkwardly participated in debates, spent weekends volunteering in random charity events, and chatted about things she didn't give a damn about. All of it, just to look normal.
Too bad life doesn't work that way. No matter how hard she tried, her pretty face became weighed down, her bright smile lost its glow. In the end, all she got were labels—freak, quiet, antisocial.
Then one day, after getting scared half to death by a prank, the soul of a transmigrator took over.
"What a naive kid. Someone pisses you off, you hit back, simple as that."
Isabella Swan picked out some makeup from the original body's stash—primer, foundation, setting powder, eyebrow pencil, and lipstick. She put on light makeup, enough to cover the pale look. Staring at the mirror, she nodded to herself.
This... this was probably the real reason she got shunned.
"I'm just too beautiful."
She could've been a princess, but she ended up being treated like a damn maid. Isabella Swan couldn't help but feel sorry for her predecessor.
She'd dreamed of strutting into school, making those who bullied her kneel and beg for mercy. But with her terrible social skills, her mom just ended up transferring her to another school.
The cold transfer notice finally snapped Isabella Swan out of the loop of "I'm so pretty," "I'm too beautiful," "Why am I this stunning."
> "Forks High School? Are you serious? Not joking?" she had to double-check with her mom.
No way a woman who gave birth to a beauty like Isabella was unattractive. Renee Dwyer, not even 40, still looked good. Her current husband? A muscular, brawny man. Anyone could guess the story there.
Renee gently stroked Isabella's hair.
> "Sweetie, why so dramatic? Haven't you always wanted to spend time with your dad? Go ahead. Take a break, clear your head. Washington has a nice climate, not like hot and dry Arizona."
Isabella caught the subtext: Go. The longer you're gone, the better. We're having fun here—you don't need to worry about us.
Next day, her mom and stepdad went off on a trip.
For the record, Washington State and Washington, D.C. aren't the same. Totally different directions. Washington State's in the far northwest—Pacific Ocean to the west, Canada to the north. Classic northern state.
Isabella Swan was going from hot, southern Arizona to chilly, damp Washington State. Her mom didn't even blink about the risks or the difficulty of that trip.
In her words:
> "Bella's an adult now. She can handle this stuff. When I was her age, I'd already done XYZ."
Bella wanted to yell: Lady, I just moved here two days ago! I don't know jack about Washington!
But no point arguing. The next morning, Bella pulled her suitcase and left the house alone.
Sunlight filtered through the trees, spilling gold onto the pavement. People rushed around, busy with their lives. Bella walked toward the station, full of mixed feelings.
She was saying goodbye to this city.
Phoenix, capital of Arizona—name sounded nice. Rebirth from ashes, wings of a phoenix—how poetic.
And in a way, it fit. In her past life, she died from overwork. Next thing she knew, she'd been reborn.
At first, she thought she'd won the lottery. Then she realized this world had Stark Industries. Osborn Industries.
That's when she knew—nope, this was a cursed life.
Then her mom dropped the bomb: Forks High School in Washington.
She figured her luck was just spiraling. Misfortune on top of misfortune—add those together, and you get one word: screwed.
Was this some mashup world with Twilight and Marvel?
She didn't need to think about the nature of the universe or anything that deep.
From what she remembered, Forks was nuts. Werewolves in the north, vampires in the south. And sometimes, rogue vampires would speed through the town. Calling it "dangerous" didn't even cut it.
So what now? She had no clue.
Start a company before finishing high school? She didn't have the brains or the cash. Her total assets added up to about $1,000.
So, she had no choice but to suck it up, go to Forks, and finish high school. After that, her plan was to apply to a college as far from the U.S. as possible. The farther, the better.
"Isabella Swan? United Airlines wishes you a pleasant journey."
The airport staff handled her luggage like clockwork.
She got through security. Then her phone rang. Bella pulled out an old flip phone, glanced at the number, and answered.
"Hey, Mom."
"Hi Bella, sweetheart. You at the airport?"
With a mom like this, Bella figured all her luck got used up the moment she transmigrated.
Did they have no feelings for each other? That's not quite true.
Were they close? Not really either.
Once the transmigrator took over, their already-shaky relationship just got worse.
Her mom was all about the new husband now. Barely paid attention to her daughter. Bella's long trip? All she got was a casual phone call.
"Yeah, I'm good. You guys have fun."
Her mom's care was typical American. Bella's response was also very American.
A few polite words, and the call ended.
Bella listened carefully to the airport announcements, nervous about possible flight changes.
Aside from her good looks, her predecessor didn't leave her much. Her English was in a weird place—big vocabulary, but little real-life use. In conversations, she had to run every word and sentence through her head before she could speak.
By the time she thought of a reply, her mom had usually moved on.
So yeah, she had to listen closely if she didn't want to miss anything important.