I became the overlooked outcast/ I became an overlooked outcast/ I reincarnated as an overlooked outcast.

who am I where am I As Emily's consciousness settled into Sylvia's body, she couldn't help but think, "What the hell is going on? One minute I'm dying in a carriage accident, and the next I'm in some strange girl's body?" She gazed around in wonder, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. "What are these strange contraptions? And what's that glowing rectangle beside the bed? A magical mirror?" As she picked up the device, memories began to flood her mind her head aching. She saw glimpses of Sylvia's life - her struggles in school, her loneliness, and her desperation. Emily thought, "Poor girl. She's been through so much, just like me,No wonder she ended her life." But as she delved deeper into Sylvia's memories, Emily's thoughts turned to her own past. "I know how she feels. I was disregarded by my family, and turned into a villainess. But I won't let that happen to me again. I'll make the most of this second chance."But what's this? A device that can capture one's likeness? How does it work?" Emily's mind reeled as she tried to comprehend the modern world. "It's like something out of a Jules Verne novel! I must be dreaming... or perhaps I've gone mad." She continued messing around with the strange rectangle objects, trying to strike a conversation with it, fortunately she stumbled upon the camera app,and saw her own reflection. "What witchcraft is this? A mirror that can capture my image? And what's this button? 'Take photo'? I suppose it's like a daguerreotype, but how does it work so quickly?" Emily's inner monologue was a jumble of confusion, wonder, and determination. But one thing was clear - she was ready to take on this new life and make the most of it, even if it meant navigating a world that was completely foreign to her. Emily's eyes widened as she explored the camera app. "How can I capture my image with just a button? And what's this 'filter' business? Can I truly change my appearance with just a tap?" She stumbled upon Sylvia's social media profiles, filled with cruel comments and mocking messages. Emily's heart ached for the girl. "Poor Sylvia, you deserved so much better. I'll make sure to change that." As she scrolled through the feeds, Emily saw pictures of food, fashion, and friends. "What sorcery is this? How can people share their lives with strangers? And what's this 'hashtag' nonsense?" Emily's stomach growled, reminding her of Sylvia's struggles with food. She spotted a pizza box on the floor and picked it up, examining it. "A meal in a box? How convenient! But why is it so... greasy?" She opened the fridge, finding it stocked with junk food and soda. "Good heavens! Is this what people eat? No wonder Sylvia struggled with her weight, like I'm one to talk ." Emily's determination grew. "I'll change this. I'll make Sylvia's life better, even if it's just in small ways. I'll cook proper meals too." As she explored the kitchen, Emily found a cookbook filled with complicated recipes. "What witchcraft is this? 'Microwave'? 'Instant pot'? I need something simple, like a good roast chicken." She spotted a small garden outside the window, filled with wilted plants. "Ah, a garden! Now that's something I can work with. I'll grow Sylvia some proper vegetables, and maybe even some herbs." As Emily explored the kitchen, she caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror. She paused, taking in her new body. "I'm... fat,why does it sound surprising,I already knew about this" she said, the word feeling strange on her lips. "Just like Sylvia." Memories of her own struggles with weight and neglect flooded her mind. "My family, they... they didn't care. They let me eat myself into oblivion, just like no one cared for Sylvia." Emily's eyes welled up with tears. "But I won't let that happen again. I'll take care of Sylvia's body, and I'll make sure she's cared for." She looked around the kitchen, determination in her eyes. "First things first, I need to cook a proper meal. Something healthy, something nourishing." Emily began rummaging through the cupboards, searching for ingredients. "Ah, flour, sugar, butter... this will do. I'll make a hearty stew, just like my old cook used to make." I need firewood she thought but where do I get some,I don't see any,ah what do I do, she thought and just then she got an idea. I can go through Sylvia's memories I just hope I get some useful information on how to use those those things. She did just that and was able to follow Sylvia's memories on how to use them. As she cooked, Emily felt a sense of purpose she hadn't felt in years. "This is it, this is my chance to start anew. To make a difference in Sylvia's life, and in my own." The aroma of stew filled the small apartment, and Emily's stomach growled in anticipation. "Ah, food, glorious food. Let's hope this will be the start of something beautiful." Emily finished her meal, feeling a sense of satisfaction wash over her. She had taken the first step in reclaiming Sylvia's life, and it felt empowering. But as she stood up to wash the dishes, Emily caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Sylvia's body stared back at her, a constant reminder that she was no longer in her own skin. A pang of guilt hit Emily. She had taken over Sylvia's life, but at what cost? Sylvia was truly gone, and Emily was left to pick up the pieces. As she washed the dishes, Emily couldn't shake off the feeling that she was living a lie. She was pretending to be someone she wasn't, inhabiting a body that didn't belong to her. But what choice did she have? Emily was determined to make the most of this second chance, even if it meant navigating the complexities of Sylvia's life. As she dried the dishes, Emily noticed a piece of paper on the counter. It was a note, written in Sylvia's handwriting. "Dear whoever finds this," it read. "I'm sorry. I couldn't take it anymore. Please don't mourn me. I'm finally free." Emily's eyes welled up with tears as she read the note. She felt a deep connection to Sylvia, a sense of understanding that transcended their vastly different lives. "I won't mourn you, Sylvia," Emily whispered. "But I'll make sure your life wasn't in vain. I'll live for both of us, and I'll make sure your memory lives on." Emily, now fully embracing her new life as Sylvia, with a stoic determination. She had comforted herself and Sylvia's memory, and now it was time to explore this strange new world with a sense of detachment. Before that she had to pick a dress but what is all this how can someone wear this, what is it even called, but strangely enough her body just wore the pants and hoodie like someone who always wear them. oh it seems Sylvia's body reacts reflexively on its own, this is a good thing I wouldn't have to feel out of place,my speech is not like the way I talked that's also good I can speak well and have nothing to worry about she thought. She opened the door and walked down the street, Emily's eyes took in the sights and sounds of the city without a flicker of emotion. Towering buildings made of glass and steel stretched towards the sky, their reflections glinting in the windows. People bustled past her, their faces buried in small, glowing rectangles, the sounds of the city enveloped her - the hum of engines, the chatter of pedestrians, and the wail of sirens in the distance. She breathed in the smells of street food, exhaust fumes, and the sweet aroma of blooming flowers from a nearby vendor. The cool breeze carried the scent of freshly brewed coffee from a nearby café, enticing her senses. She watched them with a polite indifference, her mind processing the unfamiliar surroundings without wonder or excitement. She had gone from horse-drawn carriages to... to... whatever these contraptions were, and she would adapt without enthusiasm. As she turned a corner, Emily spotted a group of people gathered around a street performer. He was juggling clubs and spinning plates, his movements swift and precise. Emily observed the performance with a detached interest, her expression neutral. When the performer finished his act and passed around a hat for tips, Emily reached into her pocket and extracted a few bills, handing them over without a word. The performer caught her eye and smiled, but Emily's gaze was already moving on, her attention focused on the path ahead. "Thanks, miss!" the performer called out, but Emily didn't respond, her stride steady and unhurried. She continued her stroll, her eyes scanning the horizon with a polite disinterest. She would navigate this new world with a sense of reserve, avoiding entanglements and connections that could lead to pain. Her heart was locked away, protected by the walls she had built. As she walked, Emily encountered others who tried to engage her in conversation, but she responded with brief, polite replies, never lingering or inviting further interaction. She was a ghost drifting through the city, unseen and untouched. The smell of greasy food wafted from a nearby food cart, mingling with the sweet scent of sugar from a churro vendor. Emily's stomach growled, reminding her of Sylvia's struggles with food. She spotted a small café nearby, its door open to reveal a cozy interior. The aroma of freshly baked pastries beckoned her inside. As she entered the café, the sounds of the city gave way to the gentle hum of conversation and the soft clinking of cups. Emily's eyes adjusted to the warm lighting, taking in the comfortable seating and the rows of books lining the shelves. She felt a sense of calm wash over her, a respite from the overwhelming sights and sounds of the city.She got a cup of coffee and then left. As Emily walked away from the café, she heard the cries of someone asking for help. She turned to see a frail old woman struggling to carry her groceries. Without hesitation, Emily rushed to assist her. "Let me help you with those," she said softly, taking some of the bags from the woman's arms. The woman looked up at Emily with gratitude in her eyes. "Thank you, dear. I'm so sorry to be a burden." Emily smiled warmly. "You're not a burden at all. I'm happy to help."