Right, how did I manage to forget such a big portion of my life, how could I forget the fact that I actually died. My father left shortly after I was born, mom worked all day or raised me and my brothers and after coming home she would mostly be in her room drowning herself in alcohol. We always moved from one place to another, hoping things would get better. There was no proper job for mom in our situation. So she took whatever she got, from working at restaurants, working at supermarkets, working as servants, polishing shoes, painting, there was nothing she didn't do.

Mom was often stressed and drunk and she needed something to let her frustration out. When I was young it was mostly my second brother but slowly I turned into someone she let her frustration out. I accepted it as it was something normal. The people in school always gave me weird looks of always being covered in bruises. Some pitied me, some mocked me and for some, I became the new toy to bully.

As children, none of us siblings got proper guidance. They often never came back home. The elder brother was a bit understanding but slowly he changed too. When I came to an age of understanding, I realised that I was blamed for our father leaving us. A useless brat, only a waste of space. Still, I hoped for something good, some change.

And then I met her, a normal girl who was a little too curious. She was new at the high school where I used to study, so it was not normal for her to see a student come to school bruised up every day. She would visit me every day at lunchtime with many ointments and bandages and patch up the bruises. I only watched her silently and let her do whatever she wanted.

Slowly I opened up to her, she would sit there with me all day and listen to whatever stuff I said. She always started by my side. I, who never knew how to laugh, learned it after I met her. It felt nice to have a friend. A family. Suddenly, she kept recommending books to me and from then on I often borrowed books from the school library and read them.

But as their family had to move away, she left the town shortly after we became close friends. Before she left, she gave me a book, the one which was the best selling at that time. 'The heart full of Stars.' Though the villainess was really pitiful. The story was nice. The book always reminded me of her.

But for a person like me, I shouldn't deserve happiness. But I craved happiness, I wanted to move out as soon as I turned 18, get a job, finish my studies and live a peaceful life alone. It was my dream that I wanted to fulfil.

Soon my mom passed away and left me and my siblings in the hands of her boyfriend who was good for nothing. He abused me for fun. Every day, his abuse would go on until my body would feel numb or I would pass out.

"Stop!"

"Please!"

"It hurts! Please stop!"

"Stop!"

My screams, I remember them unlike everyone who ignored them.

And just like that one day, his abusiveness crossed the limit. My body almost went numb to all that pain until I felt the sharp piercing pain take over my body and all I saw was that bloody broken bottle of alcohol and a face filled with satisfaction. I stayed on the cold floor until I bled out and died. No one came for me or tried to save me. All those screams and cries were ignored that night as the world muted me. Did I regret dying before I could fulfil my dream? Yes.

Thinking about that gave me shivers. Death is not easy even if you get gifted with a second life and neither is pain. Scars and black and blue bruises might fade but the memory will be a fresh wound to the heart. But worse than that is why one's death gets engraved into one's mind when that person really dies. He didn't care about me, nor my mother or my siblings. He wasted half of the income mom used to bring back home. I didn't ever understand why mom used to stay by his side. I was 17 when I died. I was only waiting till I turned 18 to get out of that place, but I guess god had different plans for me.

...

And so yes, I died. I died at the hands of my mothers boyfriend right after her death, but why did god send me here instead of sending me to her? To suffer. I am god's favourite, so god loves to see me suffer which is why now I am the villiness of a fantasy romance novel with amnesia.

After I regained consciousness again, the Esmeray family physician was called. After checking my condition he told me to rest and left the room.

It was safe to say by now my adaptation of this world was completed. Though I know nothing about Evanora, her life or her past deeds, I can use my amnesia as an excuse!

It's not easy, knowing that I have died and now I am alive. It's simple to say I got reincarnated into the villainess of a fantasy romance novel.

The villainess is the daughter of the duke, which means she is rich! The villainess' beauty is compared to the goddess of beauty, she is that pretty! And in the world of magic, where mage and magicians are rare, she becomes one of the magicians of the tower.

I should be happy, god gave me a nice vassal to get reincarnated in. I shouldn't be selfish and be happy.

BUT!

But! How could god ignore the fact that the dumb villainess gets herself killed!?

I cried invisible tears as I cursed at god from not reading the ending of the novel before he sent my soul down here. I accepted it all. If the story changes for my survival, I don't mind it. I have lived a life I don't want anyone to live in, so if god has given me a chance to enjoy my life this time I am willing to take it.

It's crazy, I understand. Being reincarnated in a romance novel, what kind of crack shit is that? I get it, but this is the best chance I have.

As long as I don't return to my world,

Where a drunk jerk will beat me up until I pass out, where I have to worry about bullies everyday, where life is harder than even hell.

I am okay with even the craziest crack shit!

I will change the story if I need to survive!

...

Or so I thought I would change the story to survive...

I have no idea what I should do to save my neck, or to stop any of the tragic events from happening because the world which was once within the pages of a novel is now real, so every death means it. As I was supposed to rest, the day I got reincarnated into this story passed nicely. I only met the girl called Emily who brought my food and helped me with whatever necessary. As I asked her a few questions as I have 'amnesia' I got to know she is my personal maid who served me for the last 5 years after I fired my old maid. Now that it's my second day here inside a novel, and I have pushed my sanity aside and am perfectly fine with being a villainess in a novel, I need to find a plan to survive.

Now, many might think why in a hurry? A plan can be made later, or be made gradually. But having a plan created within a first week and even getting it utilised is the foundation of survival and not to mention the less time I waste, the more time I will get to succeed!

And I gained all this knowledge from all those reincarnated and second life novels! Ah, all those novels and mangas are now paying off.

Today is the second day, and I have decided on the first step of my foundation of survival.

"Emily," I called as I took a sip of the sweet tea.

"After I am done with the tea, can you take me to the library?" I asked. "Reading books about history and other matters related to Alastria, might help me regain a bit of my memory."

Foundation of Survival, Step 1:

Gathering as much information as possible!