The morning light filtered softly through the blinds, casting long shadows across the familiar wooden floor. Shylie Reed's eyes fluttered open, the world shifting into focus. She took in the faint smell of bacon wafting from the kitchen, the warmth of the room enveloping her. But this wasn't the sterile, cold hospital room she'd left behind. This wasn't the world she knew in 2020. This was 1993.
She sat up, the remnants of her past life still lingering in her mind, the years she had spent alone, overlooked, under appreciated. A lifetime of pain and regret was behind her now, fading into the recesses of her memory like a distant dream.
Sixteen again. The word echoed through her mind. Shylie blinked, adjusting to the weight of her new reality. She was no longer the middle-aged woman, struggling with illness, suffocating under the weight of time. She was reborn, with a chance to correct all the mistakes she had made in her first life. This time, she would seize control.
She glanced around her room, still cluttered with the faded remnants of her childhood. A few old pop music posters from the '80s, a couple of books that had remained unread for years, and the comforting hum of her family going about their routines. The house was small but filled with memories, the kitchen always fragrant with the scent of her mother's cooking.
Sliding out of bed, she padded quietly to the door, her feet meeting the cold hardwood floors. As she walked down the narrow hallway, the weight of her family's dynamics hit her like a wave.
Her parents' voices drifted through the kitchen door. Her mother, Mrs. Reed, was talking about the upcoming PTA meeting, her tone bright but distracted. Mr. Reed sat at the table with his coffee, reading the newspaper, the pages crinkling under his hands as if his world was as rigid and predictable as the newsprint in front of him. He barely noticed when Shylie walked in, as he was too engrossed in the details of his own quiet life.
And then there was Leah.
Leah, the golden girl. The adopted daughter who had always been the family's shining star. The one who could do no wrong. Even at 18, Leah was the center of attention. A straight-A student. Beautiful, graceful, effortlessly charming. Her life always seemed perfect, while Shylie's existence had been nothing more than a shadow behind her.
"Good morning, Shylie," Leah greeted, her smile polite, if not a little too practiced.
Shylie didn't answer immediately, but her eyes locked with Leah's, a flicker of something cold passing between them. There were no more games, no more pretending. This time, Shylie wouldn't allow herself to fade into the background. Not in this life. Not again.
"Morning," Shylie replied, her voice cool, almost detached. She wasn't the same girl she once was. She wasn't the invisible teenager anymore.
Her younger brother Thomas, still at the age of naïve admiration, sat across from her at the table, oblivious to the undercurrents that flowed between the family members. He still looked up to Leah, still thought of her as his idol.
"Shylie, did you hear? I'm trying out for the football team this year!" Thomas beamed, excitedly leaning forward. "You'll come to the games, right?"
Shylie suppressed a small smile, the warmth of his enthusiasm tugging at her, though she didn't show it. "Of course, Thomas," she replied nonchalantly, but her mind was already elsewhere.
Leah's eyes narrowed slightly, but she didn't speak. She wasn't concerned with Thomas, she was concerned with something far more important. With Shylie.
The dynamic was always the same, Leah, the favored one, Shylie, the afterthought. But this time, Shylie was going to change that. She was going to rise above it all.
The halls of Rooseville Academy buzzed with the energy of a new school year, filled with the noise of students gossiping, laughing, and rushing to their next classes. Shylie Reed stood at the entrance of the school, her heart beating with anticipation. She was no longer the timid, overlooked teenager. Today, she was a force—confident, composed, and undeniably determined.
Dressed in the standard uniform, crisp white blouse, plaid skirt, and the small school emblem sewn neatly on her collar—Shylie's appearance commanded attention. Her dark hair cascaded around her shoulders, framing her sharp features.
There was something about her that made her stand out in a crowd. She wasn't just pretty—she was magnetic, with an air of quiet strength that was impossible to ignore.
As she walked through the school's bustling corridors, she noticed the way people looked at her, the whispers behind her back.
"Who's that?"
"She looks like a movie star."
"She's new, right?"
"I've never seen her before."
She didn't care. She wasn't here to be noticed in the way they expected. She was here to dominate.
In homeroom, the teacher called out the names on the roll sheet. When she reached "Shylie Reed," there was a pause, a slight hesitation in the air. Shylie stood, her posture perfect, her gaze steady. "Here," she answered simply.
The room fell silent for a moment. The others couldn't place her, couldn't figure out how to categorize her. They would. In time.
Shylie was a junior, technically. But she wasn't planning on staying in this grade for long. She had a goal—she would skip grades, graduate early, and leave this town behind long before anyone else had even considered their futures.
At lunch, the cafeteria was filled with noise and chatter, the smell of greasy pizza wafting through the air. Shylie sat at a corner table, away from the chaos, with a stack of textbooks in front of her. She didn't need to socialize. She didn't need friends. What she needed was knowledge. And she had a plan.
Her eyes scanned her textbooks, flipping from one page to the next with precision. Algebra, biology, history—subjects that had once felt like mountains in her previous life now seemed like mere stepping stones. She wrote furiously, making meticulous notes.
"Accelerate. Dominate. Don't stop until you own this," she murmured to herself, a mantra that had become her guide.
Across the room, Leah sat at a table with her usual entourage, her friends who hung on every word she said, laughing at her jokes, complimenting her style. Leah's beauty and charm were undeniable, but Shylie could see through it. She could see the carefully crafted persona Leah put on. Behind that sweet smile was something colder—something evil.