Supernatural thriller | Rising fashion influencer Rhea is gearing up for her runway debut, but her perfect world is upended when she finds herself haunted by a ghostly doppelganger.
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Twenty-four-year-old Rhea Patel has it all-the career in fash...
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I blinked and only blackness surrounded me. A feeling of surrealism encompassed me, like floating in an open space without boundaries. Yet my fingertips grazed solid ground, then my palm registered the cold tiles beneath me and pressed at my back. Only then I realized I had been lying on the floor. I pushed myself up, amazed but petrified at the utter confusion of it all.
I managed to get to my feet, an unsteadiness washed over me making me woozy. My eyes scanned the space and my surroundings for even a pinprick of light. Although a sweeping coldness made the area seem massive and never-ending, the utter darkness triggered my claustrophobia.
Soon, I would panic and hyperventilate, and I tried to combat that anxiety and prevent the loss of my sanity by finding a light source. In the distance, a tiniest of brightness caught my eye. And like a magnet, it drew me in. I moved toward the light steadily as if I were floating, yet the ground beneath my feet was the only solid thing around.
I tried looking ahead to make sure I wouldn't walk off an edge and fall into a crevice, but the darkness forced me to trust the ground would remain firm beneath me.
The light grew larger the closer I got and soon the lit room came into perfect view. Standing at the threshold of the bright room, I took in a medical bed with white railings. The bed rested in the center with a pristine tile floor and white walls that reminded me of the photography studio, yet the machinery attached to the person lying motionless in the bed reminded me of my last visit to a hospital where I had tubes in me measuring my blood pressure and oxygen.
The astringent smell of medicine entered my nostrils, further establishing I was indeed in a hospital room. That harsh smell was a reason I hated visiting hospitals, but this time I had no choice judging by what I saw.
The red-haired woman in the bed was me. She lay on her back, although her eyes were closed her bandaged head rested to the side facing me. The outline of her petite upper body and bronze skin of her arms that peeked from the white sheet was just as wispy as the doppelganger had been, prompting me to look down over myself to compare.
My own body seemed solid and not translucent as the women in bed. My heartbeat still raced through my body, causing it to thump with every rapid beat as I tried to figure out what was happening to me.
Was I dead?
I studied the bloodied bandage around the women's head and the machines monitoring her vitals and the realization hit me. That woman is me but why was I here observing her?
The tube going into her nose must've given her oxygen or liquid nutrients, I couldn't tell, but it didn't look right or comfortable. My heart sank at the condition she was in, but I still couldn't understand why she was there, and I was here.
I looked past her to the nothingness behind her. It was only when I focused on that emptiness, that more of the scene manifested. Dozens of posters, stuffed animals, and handwritten letters littered the room.
