There was a flash of white and a pounding dizziness that resulted in her crying out loud in pain.

"Miss! Miss! Are you alright?" cried a young, shrill voice

"Ugh. What are you doing Doctor? You said it would be a quick death!" cried Grandma Chen "Is this what you called a fucking quick death?"

"Miss....what are you talking about? The doctors said you were going to be fine. You just escaped death. Stop bringing it up or else you'll bring bad luck" said the voice by the side of her head in a worried tone

Grandma opened her eyes. They slowly widened in shocked. She hardly recognized or could make sense of the room she was in.

It was pink everywhere, from the paint color to the blankets on top of her to the trash can conveniently placed next to her bed. It looked like Barbie barfed pink all over the room.

Grandma looked at the girl standing next to her bed. She looked around 18 years old with a small heart shaped face, blue eyes, and blond hair. Her hourglass figure was accentuated by the French maid outfit she had on, but instead of it being black and white, it was pink and white.

She can feel her eyes twitching. She was a grown adult well past her prime. Why was she placed in a room for a child. Who was this girl next to her? Why did she look so upset? Looking down at her hands that were on top of the blankets, Grandma Chen couldn't help but notice that this wasn't her body. Her skin had never looked this pale or youthful since she was in her twenties. Her eyes twitched again when she saw the fluorescent pink nail polish on her nails.

She lifted her hands, wanting to push away the blankets to see the rest of her body, but struggled with that simple act. Her body felt heavy and didn't want to listen to her. Why do I feel so tired? Looking at the skin on my hand, it looked like as if her body reverted back to the days of her youth. Did the doctors lied to me? Instead of letting me die, they used my body for experiments? Did they succeed and time rewinded for me? The thoughts of Grandma Chen's went in circles, thinking of different possibilities for what she was seeing. Maybe, the doctors transported my consciousness into another body like those sci-fi tv shows Timonthy used to watch. Or maybe I transmigrated into another world and into the body of some sad misfortunate girl who was died a wrongful death. Another world would make this atrocious room more understandable. Or maybe, just maybe, my past life was just a dream, and when I died, I woke up to my real life. Maybe, everything was a dream and I am an entity hopping from one dream to the next. Maybe, death was the end of one life and the beginning of the next. Maybe, I reincarnated. Maybe, I am currently in heaven.

Grandma sighed. She was getting old. Her mind kept hopping from one thought to the next. She needed to get realistic and figure out what the heck was going on before letting her brain wander. With great trouble, she pinched one of her hand until she started to bleed. I am not in a dream that I can wake up from, she confirmed in her brain. This was real or as real as it could be. Maybe I should slap myself a couple of times just to be sure? she thought.

"Miss! What are you doing to yourself?" cried the girl in the maid costume. "If you are upset, don't take it out on your body! Don't you know how precious your body is?"

"Hey, what is your name? And what am I doing here?" Grandma asked.

"Miss, you don't remember anything?" she cried out again. Looking at her miss lying down on the bed who had a confused look on her face, she started talking again. "Miss, my name is Annabelle. I am your personal maid and had been with you since we were both babies. Your name is Chrysanthemum Wu, the young miss of the Wu family."

"First off, why was I named Chrysanthemum?" asked Grandma Chen, she couldn't help but think of her own name, Marigold Chen or Mary for short. When she was young, she hated her crazy hippie mom for naming her Marigold. Who named their child that in the twenty-first century and because of it, she got made fun of at school. Now, she was named Chrysanthemum, which was better, but she never liked unique names. She loved common and popular names like Jennifer, Emily, Anna. Even Rose would be okay with her.

"It was your mother, the late Mrs. Rebecca Wu, who named you and you dad respected her decision."

"You've been with me since we were babies so you should know me better than myself."

"Yes"

"Why is this room pink?"

"It's your favorite color"

"I dislike it immensely. Can we get rid of everything?"

"Yes"

"Thank goodness"

"..."

"What happened to me? How did I ended up this way?"

"You fell down the stairs and hit your head"

"..."