PART 1 (This is only when I begin a new section)

Chapter One (This is chapters OVERALL, not the chapter that is in the part)

WARNING! LONG AUTHOR'S NOTES AHEAD.

Me: I'm really nervous guys . . . what if they don't like my story?

Jay: Relax, it'll be fine!

Cole: C'mon, let's do this!
Me: Okay . . . Hey, readers! I'm ForeverDreamer12 (but you can just call me Ever) and this is my first fic, so please don't hate!

Kai This story will be written in 3 parts.

Lloyd: 1- Hidden Identity, 2- Hidden Darkness, 3- Hidden Destiny. 3 will be longest, 2 will be shortest.

Me: In this fic, rhe ages are the following: Lloyd is 15, Nya and Jay are 16, Kai is 17, Cole is 18, Zane: who knows!?

Kai: Just want to say: there will never be swear words or anything else inappropriate in this story! :)

Cole: And PLEZ REVIEW!

Me: But when you do review, constructive criticism and positive feedback only! No flames! Now enough babble, ENJOY!

Me: Oh, and I do not own Ninjago (if I did, Chima wouldn't exist and Ninjago would still be playing. DIE CHIMA!), but I own the plot and my OCs.

Part 1, Chapter One: The Torture Begins

(Nya's POV)

I wish this was all a dream. I've been through enough in my short sixteen years of life: I've already been kidnapped, already been tortured. I've even been turned evil and forced to fight my friends, but this is worse. Never before have I been forced to be another person. Yes, in plays I've acted as other people, but this is no play—this is life.

My head slumps onto the desk in front of me. I try to close my eyes and get some sleep, when a voice jolts me: "Christy!"

"Christy" . . . ugh! The name that ruined it all. I hear the voice in my mind saying "I am Christy May Timothy, I am Christy May Timothy" . . . but, no! I am Nya, the brave samurai, but I must not act differently than Christy would, or I will be in very hot water.

"What . . . Mom?" I call in reply. I'm still getting used to calling a complete stranger 'Mom', but I must control myself and act "natural".

"Are you getting up? It's time for the first day of school!" my 'mom' calls. Groaning, I shut the bedroom door, resisting the urge to slam it. I've been awake and ready for over an hour. Somehow I'm used to waking up early, probably because I rose early where I used to live. I don't remember anything about my life before being forced to replace Christy, besides who I really am. The slight bit I remember is very fuzzy . . .

One morning, at least two weeks ago, I awoke in a white hospital-like room. A tall man dressed like a doctor, but in dark black, loomed over me like a giant specter of death. "You are Christy May Timothy," he commanded in a booming voice. An assistant of his or something was holding a needle with a scary clear liquid in it. The specter of death gestured to a computer. "This is your life, your likes, your previous boyfriends, your family, your experiences in 1st through 9th grade, and everything else you need to know about your new life as Christy May Timothy." I gape at him, finally finding my voice.

"My friends will put a stop to this! There is no way you can do this! They will hunt you down! They care about what happens to me! They're not just going to sit back and watch me suffer! You will pay for this!" I snapped defiantly. He just laughed at my efforts.

"Don't worry," he said, smiling creepily. "You won't need to memorize it or confuse it with your old life."

"They will come!" I shouted.

"They can try," he whispered calmly. "But no one will ever know what happened to you. Goodbye, brave samurai." Then an extreme pain shot up my arm, and I passed out. When I woke again, I was lying in bed, in this very room, in this very house, and wearing putrid hot pink pajamas. It slowly came to me that I remembered almost nothing about my previous life as Nya, and everything about Christy May Timothy's former life. I was ruined. My heart broken, my soul shattered. I was destroyed. I am destroyed. I am Christy May Timothy.

(Still Nya's POV)

This morning I feel horrible. As I slump down the staircase to the kitchen, I think back to that day—the day where I lost my life. I wonder who the friends were that I said would help me. Did I have siblings? Parents? Grandparents? A boyfriend? Many friends? I know nothing. Sighing as I enter the kitchen, I scarf down a bowl of cereal and gulp down ice-cold orange juice. Then my 'mom' shoos me out of the house. I break into a run so I will not miss the school bus. Entering the bus is creepy. It's familiar yet unfamiliar at the same time. I've seen and been on this bus before, but not for real. Only in Christy's memories. As I walk down the aisle, I'm begin to think that all of my memories as Nya were supposed to be erased, but my will was so strong that some remained.

"Christy!" I'm jolted from my thoughts by a familiar (yet unfamiliar) voice. My implanted memories register the voice as my 'friend' Alyssa. Alyssa's stormy grey eyes find mine, and she tucks a lock of her bright pink hair behind her ear. Alyssa dreams to become a model. Next to her, her loyal friend Reesia sits, her cold black eyes studying me. Her oily brown hair is stiff on her head from too much hair products. Reesia's dream is she wants to become a movie star. I smile as realistically as I can muster.

"Hi, Alyssa." She grins back at me.

"Come sit with me and Reesia!" I join my "friends" and tune out their gossip about boys, fashion, makeup, boys, and summer vacations. I wish I could remember my summer. I sigh and rub my left shoulder, which for some unknown reason is sore. I decide silently to take a peek at it when we arrive at school.

"You're being awfully quiet, Christy!" says Reesia.

"Oh, I'm very tired. I stayed up too late . . . texting." Surprisingly, the lie floats smoothly from my lipstick-smeared lips, like I'm talking to my friends in an everyday situation. This may seem to everyone else in the world like an everyday situation, but for me it is dreamlike. The world is too complicated for me anymore.

When the bus pulls up to Clariston High School, I rush straight to the nearest girl's bathroom. I slip into a stall, slam the door shut, and lock it tight. I gently pull at the top of my ugly laced sleeve to expose my shoulder. When I see it, I gasp: it is slightly swollen with a bright red scar. It burns painfully as I examine the wound. This is not an ordinary cut, and I know it. It isn't a tattoo or a burn. The scar depicts two crossed daggers, the right one charged with electricity, and the left one flaming. I'm sure that this scar means something, but my ruined mind cannot remember what.

When I touch the scar, it burns with immense pain. Tears of agony and sorrow glaze in my eyes, and I fall to my knees. Christy's overly tall pink heels clatter on the tile floor. Blinking so my contacts won't fall out, I push a loose lock of my hair behind my ear. Christy's skinny jeans feel way too tight and her hot pink curve-hugging top seems to suffocate me. I try to control myself as the tears cascade down my face. 'My' makeup is now smeared and ruined. Like I care. Just as I'm ready to completely break down, the school bell rings.

Angrily, I wipe Christy's smeared makeup from my face and rush from the bathroom. Clomp, clomp, clomp! 'My' heels click loudly against the tile as I run, and I'm afraid that I will trip and fall on my face. I've never been a girly-girl or worn heels, but right now I just want to get this day over with.

For the rest of the day, all I can think about is that burning scar on my left shoulder. What could it possibly be? Where had it come from? What did it mean? I ignored the world, shut out the falseness, and tried not to cry. I barely talked all day, the excuse being that I was tired. By the time I returned to Christy's house, I was a wreck. I kicked off her heels and locked myself in 'my' room, where I wept until dinner.

Me: Yay one chapter down! QUESTIONS:

Who do you think the 'specter of death' was?

What do you think Nya's scar means?

Lloyd: PLEZ REVIEW!

Me: ForeverDreamer12, signing out!