A/N: This is also posted on AO3. I do not own Winx Club and do not intend on updating this story.

Chapter 1

Part 1
ѕнє wasn't always Bloom. Before, ѕнє was just a girl.

The girl died.

But that wasn't when ѕнє became Bloom.

Not yet.

Part 2
ѕнє remembers a dream… or maybe ѕнє dreamed a memory? ѕнє isn't quite sure but it was different than just about everything about her.

Unlike other girls, ѕнє dreamed of making a difference in her own way and not getting whisked away by a prince.

Yet in this memory or dream or whatever it was, ѕнє was a princess. Gone were нєя t-shirts and jeans and came beautiful dresses and fancy gowns.

Unlike нєя distant parents and siblings, нєя dreamlike family was always by нєя side, smiling bright and looking at as if ѕнє was their everything.

The king, her dad, carried нєя on his back through the garden, telling нєя impossible stories of how he faced wandered various lands, slew ferocious beasts, and befriended dragons.

The queen, нєя mom taught her how to do the impossible. ѕнє learned how to make nothing into something with a stare, turn lead into gold with a single finger, or even pluck stars out of the sky with only a handful of words.

нєя favorite part of the dream was the time spent with нєя sister. Despite the decade and a half age difference (ѕнє didn't acknowledge that ѕнє was supposed to older, not the other way around), they were the best of friends. Together, they ventured through endless halls, peered through the cracks of countless doors, and climbed the tallest of towers. Every second together was like a brand new adventure just waiting to be explored.

But like someone once said, all good things must come to an end.

ѕнє remembers a raging fire, a roaring storm, and a consuming darkness. The next time ѕнє opened нєя eyes, it was all gone.
ѕнє wonders if it ever really happened or was it just a figment of her imagination. Was it a glimpse of what ѕнє could have or another unreachable desire?

Bigger problems rose and eventually, ѕнє forgets.

Part 3

For a logical person, ѕнє was being very illogical. That small part of нєя brain is recalling all of the fanfictions ѕнє's read and how all of the inserts smartly handled it. The larger, overwhelming part of нєя is screaming colorful curses and, well, majority rules.

ѕнє can't find it inside нєяself to care anymore.

(i⃣t⃣'s⃣ A⃣l⃣L⃣ g⃣O⃣n⃣E⃣

h⃣E⃣r⃣ F⃣r⃣I⃣e⃣N⃣d⃣S⃣-

H⃣e⃣R⃣ L⃣i⃣F⃣E⃣-

h⃣e⃣R⃣ F⃣A⃣m⃣I⃣L⃣y⃣-

o⃣h⃣ g⃣O⃣d⃣ h⃣E⃣R⃣ B⃣r⃣o⃣t⃣H⃣e⃣R⃣s⃣

S⃣h⃣e⃣L⃣E⃣f⃣T⃣t⃣H⃣E⃣M⃣a⃣l⃣l⃣A⃣L⃣o⃣N⃣e⃣-)

Why should ѕнє play pretend for a couple of strangers?

Why should ѕнє care that they think she's weird?

Why should ѕнє even try anymore?

Part 4
If they're going to talk about нєя, they could've had the decency to do somewhere than in front of нєя cradle.

"There's something wrong with her Mike… She doesn't eat, she doesn't cry, all she ever does is sleep."

"What do you want to do?"

"I don't know! Take her to a doctor or something?"

Mike and Vanessa Quinn.

Those are the names of the people who gave birth to this body. Those are the names of the people who look at нєя as like ѕнє is their everything. Those are the people who ѕнє is incapable of loving.

ѕнє genuinely does try to love them. It should've been easy. They're so caring and kind and they could probably do no wrong.

But that's exactly the problem.

The two of them are like a white canvas: boring, dull, and lacking its full potential.

ѕнє was supposed to see a family, but all ѕнє sees are people that stood still instead of walked forward.

ѕнє is sorry, but ѕнє cannot love them.

Besides, they could never replace the original.

Part 5
ѕнє refuses to grieve.

ѕнє's lost everything: pride, passion, нєя own life.

But ѕнє will not grieve.

There is so much else ѕнє could do.