She wakes up to the sound of the soft pitter-patter of rain falling on the ceiling of her claustrophobic apartment. She wakes staring at the infinite inky blackness of the ceiling over her head. It felt both empty and too close. It’s the strange illusion that only darkness can bring.

She looks over to the lone window, her only portal to the outside world. She could see the dull amber of the streetlights peeking around the curtains that were designed to blot out the rest of the world. While it’s largely successful during the day, it’s the lights at night that seem to find their way in around this barricade against the light.

She sighs deeply, taking in the cool air of the evening that settles in her apartment.

The air felt a bit heavier this evening, thick with ill thoughts.

She sits up in bed, looking around her apartment. For some reason she thought there was someone in her apartment. That would be difficult as she should have heard or seen something by now, but she had the distinct thought that there was someone else there.

She seeks out shapes in the dark, but realizes that their specters of the items they’re supposed to be, incorporeal and insubstantial. Almost like physical objects cease to actually exist and all that is left is the outline of where they used to be; just like people who used to exist in your sphere of existence and all of a sudden they stop to being there anymore.

It felt as though she were haunted by all aspects of life. She couldn’t put her finger on why. She hadn’t done anything that was too out of the ordinary. To the best of her recollection everything was happening like normal.

Or was it?

It felt like everything in this world had gone grey and phantasmal; as though nothing existed in this world anymore.

She reached out in to the inky darkness in front of her, only to realize that there was nothing there. No sound, nothing was in front of her. It was just her, in bed, in her claustrophobic apartment. Nothing seemed different at all. At the same time, everything seemed… off, wrong. She wasn’t quite sure what it was, but she knew it was something. For instance, she couldn’t remember how she wound up in her bed, yet that’s where she woke.

How did she wind up there? How did she wind up staring at the ceiling? Where did this sense that something was very wrong come from?

These were questions that she couldn’t answer. She had no clue. She also couldn’t remember the last time that her apartment was ever this cold. It was almost as though she had left the window open, but the curtains weren’t being pushed out by the wind.

Maybe she would feel better if she put water on her face. Try to get some recognition of the corporeal world.

She puts her feet down on the floor and walks over to the bathroom. She still can’t seem to figure where this cold sensation is coming from. No matter where she looks, she can’t see anything that would designate a place where cold air would come in.

She reaches out to grasp the knob of the bathroom door, but she can’t grab it. She tries again but to no avail.

What was going on? Why…

She looks around the apartment as she realizes that her eyes have finally adjusted to this dark. That she could finally see every detail of her apartment. Her eyes widen as she looks around.

She looks down at her hands to see that they seem to be covered in blood. She then looks at her bed. Her lifeless body is lying on the bed, throat slit. Her blood had soaked in to the sheets of her bed. She screamed out in horror, but no one heard her.

No one would ever hear her. She would continue to live in this claustrophobic place for all eternity.

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