Chapter 5: Rebirth as Christina Richardson

**Flashback Continued** Christina found herself trapped in a labyrinth of fear and overwhelming pain, an unending maze that seemed to stretch on forever. She ran, desperate to escape, but every path led to a dead-end, each one more disheartening than the last. There was no way out. She was utterly lost, not just in the maze but within herself. Sweat dripped down her face, her breath came in ragged gasps, and her legs felt like they would give out at any moment. The walls of the maze were mirrors, cruelly reflecting her past, each one showcasing the pain and humiliation that had led her to her demise. Faces filled with scorn stared back at her from the glass, eyes brimming with disgust. She couldn’t bear to look, couldn’t stand the weight of their judgment. Christina collapsed, burying her face in her knees, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her shoulders shook with the force of her sobs, the agony of her past too much to bear. Then, she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder. Lifting her head, Christina saw a teenage girl smiling warmly at her. The girl’s honey-brown eyes seemed to draw her in, offering a comfort that Christina hadn’t felt in a long time. The girl extended her hand, and Christina hesitated, staring at it in disbelief. When was the last time someone had offered her a helping hand? But something in the girl’s eyes gave her the strength to reach out, and she took the offered hand. The girl led Christina through the maze, and as they walked, the painful memories reflected in the mirrors began to fade away. Soon, a bright light appeared at the end of the maze, a beacon of hope in the darkness. The girl stopped at the last step, and when Christina looked back at her in confusion, the girl gave her a gentle push and mouthed the words, “Don’t give up!” With a jolt, Christina woke up, finding herself in an unfamiliar place once again. This time, it was a hospital room, the rhythmic beeping of machines echoing in her ears. She sighed in relief, realizing that the terrifying maze had been nothing more than a dream. But her head throbbed painfully, as if something was trying to force its way into her mind while another force tried to keep it out. She clutched her head in agony, the pain so intense that she barely noticed when the needle in her hand tugged painfully against her skin. “Today, in West Lake Cemetery, Superstar Christina was cremated. The People's Pure Goddess committed suicide last week by jumping from the balcony of her bedroom,” the voice of a newscaster filtered through the haze of pain, pulling Christina's attention to the TV in her hospital room. “No suicide note was found in her apartment, but the police believe Ms. Anna's last Weibo post was her suicide note. However, despite an extensive search, that handwritten note was not located in her apartment.” Christina sat frozen on the hospital bed, the newscaster’s words ringing in her ears. Yes, she had committed suicide. But if that were true, why was she here? She looked down at her hands and feet before rushing to the bathroom. When her eyes met the reflection in the mirror, they widened in shock. Staring back at her was the same teenage girl from her dream. Christina splashed cold water on her face, hoping to dispel the surreal image, but when she looked again, the unfamiliar face remained. “How is this even possible?” she muttered in disbelief. “I jumped because I wanted to die. Why am I still here?” She pinched herself, hoping to wake up from what had to be a nightmare, but the sharp pain confirmed her worst fears. “Ow!” she yelped, rubbing the sore spot. “This is so not a dream!” This was no ordinary nightmare. Christina had spent years perfecting her craft as a professional actress, playing other characters for a living, but this—this was beyond her comprehension. How could she possibly have been resurrected, and in someone else’s body? The question gnawed at her— why? She had died with many regrets, but that couldn’t be the reason for this bizarre turn of events. But who was this girl whose body she now inhabited? No matter how hard Christina tried to remember, all she got in return was a splitting headache. Wasn’t this supposed to be like all those transmigration novels she had read, where the new soul gained access to the previous owner’s memories? So why couldn’t she recall anything? She propped her elbows on the marble basin, supporting her head with her hands as she stared at the unfamiliar face in the mirror. She had died at the age of 23, but now she was back to being an 18- year-old. Was she meant to be stuck with her own miserable and painful memories? How was she supposed to start anew with these old scars haunting her? The only silver lining she could find was the opportunity to do everything she had missed out on when she was 18 the first time around. Her eyes lit up with the realization. For instance, she could finally take the college entrance exams. Just the thought of that made her feel giddy and full of energy— until reality crashed down on her again. “What about him?” she murmured, her thoughts drifting to the handsome face that had once meant everything to her. “Does he miss me? Does he regret calling me a presumptuous woman, or treating me the way he did?” She slapped her cheeks, trying to snap herself out of it. “Christy, listen to yourself. Haven’t you learned your lesson? He pushed you to your death. He’s all the way in the Capital while you’re stuck in... wherever this is. This body belongs to someone else. And that someone might have her own dreams, now shattered.” As her conscience berated her, Christina felt a sobering clarity wash over her. She realized she needed to think this through. When she walked out of the bathroom, she found the beautiful girl from earlier pacing back and forth, worry etched across her face. “Thank God! You’re alright!” The girl pulled Christina into a warm embrace, tears slipping down her cheeks. Christina's body stiffened, unsure of how to respond. She didn’t know who this beautiful soul was, but she guessed that this was the best friend of the body’s original owner. “I was so worried about you.” Noticing Christina's lack of response and the strange look in her eyes, the girl—Wendy—called for the doctor. After a thorough check-up, the doctor began his questioning. “Can you tell me your name?” Christina bit her lip, hesitant to reveal the truth. “I don’t remember,” she said, not wanting to admit that she was Christina, trapped in someone else’s body. She had no desire to end up in a mental asylum or worse—become a lab rat. The doctor didn’t seem surprised by her answer and continued with more questions. “How is she?” Wendy asked the doctor as he stepped out of the room. “She’s been in a coma for a week, and now she seems different.” “Nora,” the doctor began gently, “I warned you to prepare for this. Your friend went through severe trauma, and now she’s suffering from amnesia.” “Is it temporary?” Wendy asked, her face full of concern. “We can’t be sure,” the doctor replied. “Perhaps her trauma is too great for her young self to handle.” He patted Wendy’s shoulder before leaving. Wendy returned to the room and found Christina curled up on the bed, a dazed look in her eyes. She seemed like a lost kitten, her once vibrant eyes now dull and lifeless. “Christy!” Wendy called softly, sitting beside her on the bed and gently stroking her hair. “It’s okay if you can’t remember anything. I’m going to stay with you. I’ll be your memory manual.” Christina was bewildered by the girl’s charm and warmth. It was Wendy who told her that her name was Christina Richardson. It was ironic that both she and the body’s original owner shared the same given name. As for Wendy herself... She was a Latino beauty who had moved to the US when her mother remarried an American businessman. At 14, Wendy had mastered English in just four years, and now, at 18, she was fluent. Christina, touched by Wendy’s love and gentleness, hugged her back with a small smile. But she knew that Wendy’s affection was meant for the Christina Richardson who was already gone. “You scared me, girl. Why did you go to the cemetery?” Wendy scolded her gently, her peculiar way of showing love. “Anyway, welcome back to the land of the living.” Christina looked into Wendy’s clear, bright eyes and replied, “Indeed, it’s welcome back.” Only Christina knew the full weight of those words. With them, she decided to leave her past behind. Christina was dead, and no one could change that. Now, only Christina Richardson would live—and she would live her life to the fullest. Goodbye, Christina. The world didn’t need you, and it never would. Let’s bury Christina and her memories right here. **Flashback Ends**