A/N

Hello, darling readers!

For those that don't know, this story was adopted from ThePureWhiteFeather, who has made my entire year. For those of you that knew and followed her version of the story, there are going to be many changes to fit my writing style and overall plot idea while attempting to stay along the original train of thought she started with, so bear with me.

With that said, enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Sailor Moon, or any of its characters.

Prologue

I'd like to say that I died in an exciting, high speed car chase, or maybe doing something heroic like taking a bullet for a loved one.

I didn't.

My death came in the form of laced weed, strangely enough. One moment I was smoking a blunt, sitting on the window sill of my dorm room and doing my absolute best to ignore the looming threat that was finals, and the next I was on the ground convulsing, vomiting, and maybe even frothing at the mouth. It was a bit of a blur, to be honest; I wasn't exactly able to stick around to find out the specifics either.

Obviously, I passed out at some point and didn't wake up again. Perhaps my roommate found me, called the cops or attempted CPR; whether she did or didn't hardly mattered at this point though, because nothing would have brought me back, not by then. When death came for me, there was a small, subconscious part of me that knew this was it.

No daring rescues, no take backs.

I faded away, quietly and alone, on the floor of a cramped dorm room with no one the wiser. Dying was a strange thing, so different from anything I'd ever been told it would be like. Dark, yes, but not frightening, rather it was warm, a soft blanket wrapped around your form straight from the dyer on a cold winter night. I remember the sensation of floating, drifting along for quite some time; no breathing, no thinking, just simply existing. It was… nice, I suppose, peaceful even; there were no worries, no panic, fear, or stress.

Any words I could use to describe the feeling would fall painfully short, but if I had to, I'd say it felt like safety; absolute safety and reassurance. Of course, it didn't last, nothing so pure ever did. There was a light, more of a faint glow than anything; pale, silvery eyes gazed down at me, scrutinizing me in a way that gave me my first taste of an emotion that wasn't so soothing or pleasant. For the first time in what I sensed to be a lengthy amount of time, I felt unsettled.

It was a vague, unfamiliar feeling, and I only felt myself rising in alertness when it was far, far too late.

Maybe it didn't matter though, maybe there was nothing I could have done.

It was then that I was… removed, perhaps? Removed from the warm quiet nothingness and placed into somewhere else. It held a distant familiarity that I couldn't pinpoint, not when it felt so so wrong, there wasn't enough room, and someone else was here with me but it was so tight, not enough space, not for two of us. The Other One starting struggling, pushing and pulling as if they could throw me out but there was no exit, no escape. It hurt, like a bruise being punched over and over again, pain where the warmth used to be.

I fought back, afraid and confused.

I shoved and yanked, but it was to no avail because like I said, there was nowhere to go. I think the Other One realized this as well, because suddenly they ceased their assault, and instead tried to overpower me. Some part of me knew I couldn't lose here though, that this struggle between us was important. I threw everything I was into this battle for dominance, driven by the unadulterated will to survive. I had a fighting chance here and by god I would use it.

How exactly I did it, I hadn't a clue but suddenly the Other One was shrinking, and I was growing, absorbing them. There was a scream of horror, far off in the distance that chilled me to the bone. I wasn't able to pay it any attention though, because the Other One was gone, leaving behind a wave of memories that proceeded to hit me like a freight train. Symbols and conversations that didn't make any sense to me began to filter as a new language made itself known in my mind.

Kanji and Hiragana formed links with the words and letters of my native language, and the gibberish that had seemed senseless and confusing at first became easier to understand. It was then that the memories picked up speed, flashing by far too fast for me to make sense of anything or properly process it. Images of train stations and streets, doughnuts, papers, a girl with red hair laughing, the chime of a bell, an arcade, a room with pink walls.

The memories were never ending.

I was alone though, with time and plenty of space, not to mention nothing else to do. So I organized them, trashing things that didn't seem important until a life was laid out in front of me. A girl, with big blue eyes and long blonde hair; she was startlingly familiar, her face tugging at my own memory. It was after some thought that a name floated from the recesses of my mind.

Usagi.

Princess Serenity.

Sailor Moon.

That was the moment everything clicked together. I was actually dead, I had died and somehow I'd been shoved into her mind, but that wasn't possible, because she was a fictional character. She lived in a fictional world full of magic and those kinds of things didn't simply become reality. The memories were right in front of me though, ones detailing the life of a girl I had grown up watching on television.

My mind – or was it hers? – couldn't process the gravity of the situation, because accepting this meant many, many things that I simply couldn't cope with at the moment. So I very carefully did not think about the fact that I was dead, or that I had murdered Usagi, who was only thirteen years old if the memories were correct. I also didn't think about the fact that she was a fictional character and therefore couldn't be killed to begin with.

Instead, I thought about what a crappy lifetime movie this was turning out to be.

Don't do drugs kids!

You'll die, kill a fictional person, and become stuck in their body.

But I wasn't thinking about that, or about my family. My sweet, kind mother who was too good for this world, and my genius little sister that would be going to Stanford in the fall. They'd have to bury me now, and neither deserved that. I was never going to see them again, and I couldn't even remember the last thing I'd said to them. Would they forgive me for being such an idiot, were they grieving? And what about Usagi, whose soul or mind had simply ceased to exist?

Who would grieve for her?

A/N

I know it's short, but this is simply the prologue. The following chapters will grow longer, I just have to get going first.

Anyway,

Thoughts? Questions?

Please Review!