Opening my eyes every time new world greeted me, I feel the sense of dread. 

What kind of character will I be playing this time?

And this time it was also the same... and also the scratching sensation on my throat. Like the wall of my trachea is burning and filled with smoke.

'Uhuk! Uhuk!'

I coughs so loud and it keeps on coming that my lungs could not even breath properly. Cold sweat run through my forehead to the backs of my necks that I can feel the dampness of the pillow. 

My vision was so hazy and drowsy that I could not see properly who is it that help me sitting up. When a warm water touches my dry lips I felt so relieved and heave a long sigh. 

"Here young miss, have some syrup to ease your cough," said a voice of an elderly woman. One hand was readily waiting for me to open my mouth. 

Knowing that resistance is futile, I open slightly open my mouth apprehensively. The memories of my last dream still fresh in my mind. No, it happened just now 5 minutes ago. Me drinking the dark water of punishment set by the queen dowager's grandchildren. My own... grandchildren.

I force myself to swallow the thick syrup and the vanila taste linger for a while in my mouth. 

What seems to be eternity fit of coughs now only silence stills in the air. 

I don't know when, but the old lady that accompany me had gone out of the room and never return. Maybe it was my own imagination that there was an old lady serving me. Probably because I still can get out of the immersion of my last dream.

I was a queen dowager at the end of my life and for my whole life before the passing of the king; my husband, together we rule the land in riches and arrogance. Politics and bloodline played an integral part in my principle of my last dream. When I tried so many evil tricks and wrongdoing to my future grandchild-in-law to make sure the bloodline was within the great family of royals, I was met with doom and demise. Locked into the top of tower and waited until a cup of black water arrived in my doorstep. 

That was the life of antagonistic villainy of my last dream of which I was forced to played brilliantly. When you're casted as part of the main character even though it was the villain role, there was not much a breathing room for my own self to be seen. 

The moment a character dies, dream change to another landscape or when the story itself ends then that dream also end and change into another. I am that kind of soul who wondered from one story to another and possess said character. Either it be the main character, support character or a mere extra. A story for a character for a dream. 

When a dream change, I would start with another dream with how I met my end from the last dream. 

My last dream I died while chocking to death because drinking water poison and when new dream starts, I awoke choking for air.

What a dramatic way to end and start a dream. 

* * * * *

Whatever this new dream is, I am sure this character is born with golden spoon in it's mouth. 

Soft pillows and firm bed. Cool air-conditioned, aromatically scented air and birds chirping in the morning. Covered in appropriate thick of duvet, I refuse to open my eyes and greet the morning of a new dream. 

Yet something is bugging my mind now that the event of last night had passed. 

Am I possessing the body of a child?

I instantly open my eyes and jolted my body to a sitting position. Then I look at my hands.

Small hands.

Very small hands. 

What, am I a 4 year old or something?

I push the duvet and scramble to a nearby drawer. I need to find a card or a certificate or any indicators of who I am. Name, birthdate, year I am currently possessing, and more importantly what story am i currently fall into. 

No.

No.

No.

Where is it?

Hearing the hustle and bustle that I made, someone open the door and look at me with a warm smile. "Good morning young miss. Are you feeling alright?"

I look at her. Surprised.

Not because she was coming into my room but at what she was wearing. A plain t-shirt and loose trousers covered by a floral designed apron. Her hair tied into a pony.

She was wearing a modern clothes.

Slowly i realised the arrangement inside my room. It was a simple room coloured in beige but I could see an aircond, air purifier, computer, digital clock, a cute study lamp and a phone.

Phone!

I jumped at the sight of this tiny electrical device. I inspect the device trying to figure out how to use it. 

"What's wrong young miss?"

I look at the old lady standing by the door. Her face creased with worries. 

"Do you know where I kept all my id papers?"

"Yes? It's on the third shelf-"

"Okay, thank you nanny."

"Do you want me to help you?"

"No, it's okay nanny. Just asking."

A moment of silence passed by. I do hope that my calmness was not too jarring from the original character. Usually this kind of trick helps me a lot what more that I called her nanny. Well looking at the way she dress, the way she called me and how well off this room exudes, I think my guess was not too far off.

Nanny let her worries go when she sees that I gave her a smile. "Come down for breakfast when you're ready."

"Yes, thank you nanny."

Or I am too polite in my speeches that she seems hesitate to leave me alone. I pay her no attention so that she would leave me alone.

Darn this royal attitude still hard to let go. It might take years to brush it off or that if I assimilate well enough into this original character, I might able to adapt her speech pattern. 

If, and only if the frequentness of assimilation are tripled and it all depends on what kind of character I am possessing and what story it is.

According to my birth date and subtracting it with current year, I am now actually a five year old named Myra Romaldi. 

Myra Romaldi. 

Dear god, which story is it that has this name? 

After countless dreams and so many stories that I fell into, I can't came up with any story that I can remember. Well, not all the time I can remember which story is which just because of a name. Sometimes the name itself is not that significant that it took me a while to figure out. I seldom end a dream without even knowing what story has I fallen into because in my world itself thousand- no, millions of stories are made and I can be very unfortunate to fall into an unknown one.

But this Romaldi name is bugging me for some reason. 

For now, I can say with confidence that I am an extra character who just happen to be rich.

Most probably.

I guess.