1 Prologue

It felt almost like waking from a bad dream. A dream filled with pain and agony before a numbness settled above everything. She was aware that she was Nalani now, but that she had been called Moira once before.

Moira had been rash, blunt, a bit unfeeling, and cruel at the same time. Her parents were absent for most of her life, and she took out her sadness on others, but most importantly she feared being truly alone. Moira was murdered by an unknown student who claimed that she killed the younger sibling of, which was untrue considering Moira wasn't one to leave anything but emotional pain, and other than her half-hearted insults and laughter, she'd never actually had the overall anger within to do something that would last a lifetime.

Moira was a bully, but also smart enough to know when to silence herself. That was her only strong point until she died.

It's safe to say that Nalani is... a separate entity entirely. Nalani had parents that actively disliked her, and she reciprocated that feeling, as it was one of the only things they had given her. She only had private tutors and wasn't around other children so there was no telling what kind of reaction she would have to them, though it seems a bit far fetched that she would antagonize others. Nalani is smarter than Moira, of that there is no denying. But, where Moira ran off of her loneliness, Nalani is a logical person save for the occasional encounter with her parents, in which she would attempt to stare them down as they had done for the majority of her life.

Moira was sixteen when she had died, while Nalani was the 'tender' age of nine.

Moira had pale, cream skin, graced with the occasional freckle, and ocean eyes with straight brown hair. Nalani was a dark mocha complexion, without any freckles, dark red eyes, and wavy black locks.

Arguably they were both beauties, but very different.

It's strange to think that after an accident where Nalani had 'fallen' into the large pond that her mother ordered built by the mansion nearly two months prior, she would remember Moira. Or that she would remember herself for that matter. As a young girl who was abandoned and tossed away by everyone she ever came to love in a novel titled, 'Tender Hearted'.

So now she sat, by the very same pond she had 'fallen' into, a maid by her side awaiting some type of order. She sipped her tea and ate sandwiches, the cogs in her head making their way around and around.

"Really..." she murmured to herself as her red hues gazed into the distance, "How completely unoriginal is this..?" She asked no one in particular.

Nalani Eslinger seemed to have come to a new realization. Her previous self was completely unoriginal and had poor taste in literature.

Of course... That's only her opinion. She wasn't saying it to be rude.