Unfortunately I don't believe I'm dead. Every sensation feels too real and what's more suspicious is my body. If I died wouldn't I still have the name of Elise? This Lady Scarlet, or whatever, is too unlike me. I was a dirty orphan in my past life, with dingy brown hair and empty eyes. My skin was stained and scarred and worn down by labor. Sure, if I cleaned up and got rid of the smell of piss and trash I could pretend to be a decent member of society, and at one point I was even "pretty" — and instance that only further led to my demise. Anyways, there is no way my hideous soul can be transformed into the gorgeous being I am now. I still can't believe it, and my perfectly manicured hands never fail to surprise me.