The Ill-Fated Villainess

1.2 Sudden Consciousness

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That was the original plan. But the thing is, it wasn't easy as said.

First problem was that you don't have enough time to rest and plan.

This life is much more packed than the previous lazy life you lived. Being rich wasn't easy, especially when your mother is a perfectionist. A mother who absolutely jammed packed your schedule with things she deemed needed for you to know in order to become better than everyone else, or so she thought, but anyways.

You're absolutely tired. Today was worse than yesterday, a new thing to learn has been added, Violin classes, as if the Piano isn't hard enough to learn. You wanted to tell your mother that you're still a 6-year-old kid and not a full teenager to be this schedule full. You might die early at this point, you prayed not. You won't be able to reach your next birthday if this goes on!

You groaned, laying down on your comfortable but very overly pink and princess-ish bed after a long day of violin practice and some private lessons to prepare you for the upcoming school that's going to start in what, next year! You have to get everything planned by then. And yet again, months have already passed and you have zero ideas on how to avoid the impending doom you're about to face.

With your injuries and headache gone, you can finally move around with no supervisor always needed around you. You found it to be a blessing because the nurses that followed you anywhere day and night didn't give you chances to write down things and plan. You thought you would finally have privacy and rest from the constant eyes following you around but immediately after that, the opposite happened, things got packed and you got drowned with lessons to the point you fall asleep the moment you crash at a bed from the tiresome lessons. Your parents, especially your mom, are strict because, after all, they have a high standing in society. Like said before, they have an obsession with keeping the facade of perfection maintained. Your mom fussed and continued going about how you should be more careful with your own wellbeing, as you might accidentally bruise or cut yourself up, possibly marring your skin forever.

With the exaggerated beauty standards, a scar would greatly decrease the chances of a woman getting married. A scar means something about not being pure anymore, which you called absolute BS. Scarring is normal, so who in the actual dome shaped volcano would think of that beauty standard? Geez, people and their high standards.

If a man doesn't want to marry you just because of a scar on your skin, then drop them!

And because of what happened where you fell down the ridiculously long stairs like a bowling pin, your mother almost died at the spot the moment she saw your ankle broken. Though, fortunately, you didn't bruise or develop a scar, thanks to how much oil and lotion is applied to your skin to prevent swelling or bruising. You're starting to think that if you did develop a scar, your mother would jump off the bridge in mortification. That was entirely possible considering her personality. Perhaps the villainess got her personality from her mother. They're literally carbon copies of each other, except that the daughter had gone far worse than normal.

You wanted to cry; you miss your leisure life and, most importantly, your past mother who nags. Thinking about it, she was better than the villainess' pushy, obsessed mother. At least she worries, but for the wrong thing.

'How great of you mother, to fuss about the possibility of scar forming than the possibility of your daughter dying.' You sniffled with a somber smile. No wonder the villainess was like the way she was. You sat up and crawled towards the edge of your bed and stared at your reflection in the mirror stationed on top of your bedside table. You're growing tired quickly of this life.

But then again, it's normal, with a mother who's obsessed with dolls and perfection, the villainess Y/n was surely raised to look like a doll and be perfect. Which pretty much irritated you because now you're now experiencing the awful fate of being raised like a doll the moment you get born, you and the villainess Y/n are one now after all. As soon as you developed hair and were able to walk, it's always been about beauty and perfection. But whatever, none of that matters as of now, you can manage your mother's obsession. You're growing used to it, living a life before it has its pros. You found it easier to agree and just let your mom do her thing than argue with her perfectionist tendencies.