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As a child, she was always losing things: her "best pencil ", her school bag, her gran and her mojo , which she got back. Whenever she would lose something, she'd go to a quiet place, close her eyes, then would find where she'd put it. She was a smart girl, with many talents, the trouble was she didn't know she was more than just a special girl.

She had a purpose.

Her childhood was sweet and simple. People picked on her, she got into fights, she was top of her class and she always got what she wanted by being clever.

At some point in her adult life, she and her friend visited a graveyard, where she walked past the tombstone

of her 19th century self, which had been overgrown, and ironically stated, "I don't believe in ghosts."

She never remembered what happened. She never remembered that she had several past lives, where she had the same single purpose every time. However, it seems, her reason for existing has escaped her in this life. She's been a stay-in nanny for the last six years, waiting. Trouble is, she hated waiting.

But, what would this version of her life have in store?