"I always feel out of sync with everyone around me. I stumble through life, constantly in pain. Everyone thinks I'm not normal—and they're right. I'm not normal, and I don't want to be!"
Isabella Swan flipped through the diary left behind by the body's original owner. Just from the words, she could tell the girl had some mental health issues. Years of rejection had drained her.
To fit in, the girl had tried hard to match the people around her—teachers, classmates, her mom… and her mom's current husband.
She joined clubs, went shopping with girlfriends, watched boys play basketball, awkwardly took part in debates, did random volunteer work on weekends, and talked about stuff she didn't care about. She just wanted to blend in, to not seem like a weirdo.
But effort didn't always mean results. Despite all that, her beautiful face now looked heavy and worn. Her bright smile had faded. After trying so hard, she still ended up with labels like "weird," "quiet," and "antisocial."
One day, after being spooked by a prank, the original owner completely broke—and that's when the soul swap happened.
"What a naive kid. If someone messes with you, fight back!" Isabella Swan muttered as she took out the old makeup kit. After picking through the options, she used primer, foundation, powder, brow pencil, and lipstick to cover the paleness on her face. Looking into the mirror, she nodded at her reflection.
This was the real reason people isolated her.
"I'm just too beautiful!"
She should've been a princess commanding wind and rain—but ended up living like a maid. Isabella Swan felt sorry for her predecessor.
The dream of storming back into school and making the bullies kneel in defeat was crushed. Because of the original owner's poor social skills, her mother had arranged a school transfer.
That cold transfer notice finally snapped Isabella out of her narcissistic spiral of "I'm so pretty," "I'm too pretty," "Why am I this pretty?"
"Forks High School? Are you serious? This isn't a joke?" She had to double-check with her mom.
A woman who could give birth to someone like Isabella Swan obviously wasn't average-looking either. Not even forty yet, Renée Dwyer still looked great, and her current husband was a strong, muscular man. Anyone could read between the lines there.
Renée gently stroked Isabella's hair. "Sweetie, why such a big reaction? Haven't you always wanted to go live with your dad? Go on, take a break. The weather in Washington is much more comfortable—it's not hot and dry like Arizona."
The girl caught the subtext immediately: Please leave. The longer you're with your dad, the better. We're having a good time here, don't worry about us.
The next day, Mom and her husband went on a trip.
Washington State has nothing to do with Washington, D.C. They're not even close. Washington State is in the country's far northwest corner—Pacific Ocean to the west, Canada to the north. A classic northern state.
Isabella had to move from Arizona, a southern state, all the way up to Washington for school. Whether there'd be problems along the way, whether it was dangerous—her mom didn't care at all.
In her words: "Bella's already an adult. She can handle a little thing like this. When I was her age, I'd already done way more."
Bella wanted to say: Lady, I just transmigrated two days ago! I don't know a damn thing about Washington State!
But complaining didn't help. Early the next morning, Bella dragged her suitcase out the door alone.
Golden sunlight streamed through the trees, casting a warm glow across the streets. People bustled about for work and family. The girl walked to the bus stop with a heavy heart.
She was leaving this city behind.
Phoenix, the capital of Arizona. The name sounded nice—rebirth from fire, phoenix wings rising. All symbolic and beautiful.
And it kinda fit. In her past life, she died suddenly at work. When she opened her eyes again, she had a new life.
At first, she thought she was lucky. But then she found out this world had Stark Industries and Oscorp. That's when she realized: she was screwed.
When her mom told her she had to transfer to Forks High School in Washington, she felt her luck had hit rock bottom. Two layers of bad luck… might as well just call it doomed.
Could this world be some kind of Marvel-Twilight crossover?
Well, figuring out the nature of the world wasn't her job.
Based on what she remembered, Forks was a "special" town—werewolves lived up north, vampires lived down south, and sometimes rogue vampires would blaze through like racecars. The word "dangerous" wasn't enough to describe Forks.
So what could she do? She didn't know.
Start a company before even graduating high school? She didn't have the brains or the money. All she had was a thousand bucks.
She had no choice but to bite the bullet, go live with her dad in Forks, finish school, then apply to a college as far away from America as possible.
"Isabella Swan? United Airlines wishes you a pleasant journey," the airport staff said while quickly processing her baggage.
After passing security, her phone rang. She pulled out her old-school flip phone, checked the number, and answered.
"Hey, Mom."
"Hi Bella, sweetie. Are you at the airport?"
With a mom like this, Bella figured all her good luck must've been spent during the transmigration.
Was there zero emotional connection between them? No, that wouldn't be accurate.
But were they close? Eh, not really.
After she transmigrated into this body, whatever mother-daughter bond there had been only got worse.
Her mom was now fully focused on her new husband, barely paying attention to her daughter. Even for a big trip like this, all she did was make a phone call.
"Yeah, no problem. I'm good. You guys have fun."
Her mom's version of caring was peak American. And Bella's response was also standard American.
A bit of small talk, then the call ended.
Bella listened closely to the airport announcements, worried her flight might change.
The original owner left behind nothing but beauty. Her English was at a weird level—good vocabulary, but because she never lived in an English-speaking environment, she had to mentally process every word when speaking or listening. During calls with her mom, she was often still figuring out how to reply while her mom had already moved on to the next topic.
So now, she had to stay alert just to keep up.