A small girl laughed as she ran down the hills of... Somewhere. She didn't know, to be honest. But it didn't bother the young girl, who seemed to be the age of seven. Was she seven? Her body looked older, yet she could swear that she felt seven. At least she was having fun, was what she thought. It was a happy place, and she felt an odd feeling of relief pour over her. Yet there was nothing to relieve. Or so she believed.
Turning around in the bundles of tall grass, she took an accidental glimpse of her arms. They were translucent, and a silvery-gray color. Fear took over her relief. Her already large eyes widened, making her look like an owl. "No, no, NO!" she screamed, hoping someone would hear her cries. Was she dead? The girl didn't want to take that harsh reality. Was she in another world? What world did she come from? Where were her friends and family? Did she even have friends and family?!
Why was she here? She couldn't be here, she was completely innocent and had never done anything too horrible, she thought. Wait. Had she done something bad in her life? She couldn't think of anything that she had do- No.
No memories were intact.
No tears would come out of her eyes, even in the atmosphere of grief. All she could remember was the embrace of coldness to her heart. Or, more likely, where her heart should be. If she was dead...well, spirits didn't have hearts, did they?

She tried to distract herself from the absurd thought, and she saw a patch of flowers near her. They were sitting near a dark stream that she yearned to race to. But who was she to race anyway? As she took ginger steps towards the flowers, she realized they were a favorite of hers. Marigolds. How she knew they were her favorites, she couldn't tell in the slightest, but she remembered enough to know that marigolds were important to her.
Immediately, she thought of them as a pretty flower. She could imagine herself happily gardening the golden blossom in a small town, or even at the top if a skyscraper in a city. The marigolds made her comforted for once. Sitting down next to them, she picked one from its roots, the flower turning into a monotone shade of gray. Cocking her head, confused, the girl picked several more, and weaved them together.
Soon, she made a marigold crown, and it sat atop her head right after it was completed. Her lips turned up, giving in a secretive smile. Then a certain realization fell upon her. A crown of grief and cruelty was what she made. Was someone grieving about her right now? Was someone cruel to her before? Had she been cruel to someone?
A sharp pang of heartache filled her chest as she started sobbing for the one she missed. Yet she still kept glimpses of her secretive smile in her eyes, as if she knew they would come for her. Thought she did not remember this person, she knew they were the most important thing in the world to her.
Only fragments of their name remained. But she wouldn't dare speak it. She wouldn't dare call out her loved one's name. It would hurt her so much. She yearned to try it, though, to let it play from her lips. Before she could stop, her lips parted.
"Lee...Uh...?" She could not remember the name. She was heartbroken.
It would take some time to get used to this life.