Lucia Torres had always prided herself on being an animation connoisseur. As an Argentinian college student, she spent countless hours critiquing, analyzing, and creating her own animations. But there was one show she absolutely despised: My Life Me. To her, it was the epitome of everything wrong with Western attempts to mimic anime. The choppy animations, the stereotypical characters, and the cringe-worthy dialogue made her blood boil every time she thought about it.

"Why does this even exist?" she would often rant to her friends, waving her hands in frustration. "It's like they took everything great about anime and turned it into a mockery! Ugh, if I had to live in that world, I think I'd die of embarrassment!"

But life has a funny way of twisting our words against us.

One evening, after pulling an all-nighter for her animation project, Lucia collapsed onto her bed, her eyelids heavy with exhaustion. As she drifted off, she couldn't shake the thought of how much she loathed that show. She fell into a deep sleep, filled with dreams of the colorful and exaggerated worlds she loved to critique.

When she woke up, something was… off. The air felt different, the colors around her were unnaturally vibrant, and when she glanced down at herself, she let out a horrified gasp.

"What the hell?!" she screamed, her voice higher-pitched than she remembered. She looked at her reflection in the nearby window, and there she was—a teenage version of herself, complete with the exaggerated, anime-esque features she hated so much.

It didn't take long for the realization to hit her. The clothes, the surroundings, the style—it was all too familiar.

"No, no, no! This can't be happening!" Lucia panicked, her mind racing. She was in My Life Me, the one show she detested with every fiber of her being. And to make matters worse, she was back in high school, trapped in the body of a teenager.

"Why of all places did I have to end up here?!" she groaned, clenching her fists. This was a nightmare, but there was no waking up from it. Lucia was stuck in the world she hated most, with no idea how to get back to her real life.

And so began her new life in a cartoon she'd rather forget, where she would soon discover that surviving high school was the least of her worries.

Then, as Lucia began to take in her surroundings, she noticed a few familiar items on the desk: her cellphone, earplugs, and her favorite book, The Art of Making Manga by Hirohiko Araki.

"Well, at least I have this," she sighed, feeling slightly less overwhelmed by her bizarre situation

.

That moment of relief was short-lived, however, as a knock suddenly echoed from the door.

Panicked, she hastily shoved her belongings into a black backpack she found lying on the floor. Just as she zipped it shut, an adult woman entered the room with a warm smile.

"Lucia! It's time to go to your first day of school, honey!"

"Uh, yeah, just give me a moment to change!" Lucia stammered, forcing a smile as the woman nodded and closed the door behind her.

Sighing deeply, she turned to the closet, trying to calm her racing thoughts. 'Well, at least I have my original name here—'

Her thoughts were abruptly cut off as she flung the closet door open. "What the fuck is this?!" she exclaimed in shock.

Hanging before her were the most pink, frilly, and utterly hideous clothes she had ever seen. Her face twisted in horror as she rummaged through the hangers, desperately searching for something less... nauseating.

To her relief, she eventually found a simple purple shirt and a pair of blue jeans tucked away in the back.

"Thank God," she muttered, quickly changing into them. With that minor crisis averted, she checked her backpack to see if there was anything else useful. Luck was on her side again—there was a blank notebook inside.

Finally, Lucia took a deep breath and exited her room, heading down the stairs. The same adult woman she had seen earlier was waiting for her in the kitchen.

"Sweetie, breakfast is ready!" the woman called cheerfully as she set down a plate of eggs and bacon on the table.

'Jesus, this feels way too American,' Lucia thought, suppressing a grimace as she forced herself to sit down. "Thanks," she muttered under her breath, picking at the food.

The breakfast was awkward, filled with forced smiles and silence that only made Lucia more uncomfortable. She ate quickly, eager to get away from this surreal version of her life. As soon as she was done, she grabbed her backpack and bolted for the door.

"Don't forget the path to junior high!" the woman—who Lucia now assumed was her mother in this reality, much to her dismay—shouted as she closed the door behind her.

Lucia stepped outside and stood in stunned silence, a horrifying realization washing over her.

"I don't know where the fucking school is!" she shouted in exasperation, her voice echoing through the empty street.