It was a full moon night.
Jenna opened her eyes.
For a few seconds, she didn't understand where she was.
The air was cold. Her hair was moving in the wind, and beneath her bare feet was something hard and rough.
She looked down.
A rooftop.
Her rooftop.
She was standing dangerously close to the edge.
"What…?"
She couldn't remember coming outside.
She looked around. The neighborhood was unusually quiet. Most of the houses were dark, and the moonlight made everything look strangely pale.
Then she heard someone call her name.
"Jenna."
She turned around.
Nobody.
Her heart started beating faster.
"Hello?"
Nothing.
She took a small step backward.
"Jenna."
This time the voice sounded closer.
A figure stood a few feet away from her.
She couldn't see its face. It was almost completely covered by the darkness.
"Who are you?"
The figure didn't answer.
It moved toward her.
Jenna stepped back again.
"Stop."
Another step.
She tried to move away, but her foot caught against something.
Then suddenly—
something pushed her.
Jenna lost her balance.
She fell.
The wind rushed past her face.
She tried to grab the edge of the roof, but her fingers caught nothing.
And then she saw it.
Below her wasn't the street.
It wasn't the ground.
There was a huge black hole beneath her.
It looked impossibly deep, as if the darkness continued far beyond what her eyes could see.
Jenna's scream caught in her throat.
Someone was standing inside it.
A girl.
Jenna stared at her.
The girl slowly lifted her face.
It was Jenna.
Exactly Jenna.
Same eyes.
Same hair.
Same terrified expression.
Then the girl smiled.
Jenna screamed.
She suddenly opened her eyes.
She was in bed.
Her chest was rising and falling quickly.
For a moment, she couldn't move.
Her blanket was twisted around her legs, and sweat covered her forehead.
She looked around her bedroom.
Her desk was beside the window.
Her school bag was on the chair.
Her phone was charging.
Everything was normal.
Just a dream.
"It was just a dream," she whispered.
She reached for her phone.
The screen lit up.
3:17 A.M.
Jenna stared at the time.
Something about it made her uncomfortable.
She didn't know why.
She put the phone down and tried to sleep again.
But the voice remained in her head.
Jenna.
The next morning, she noticed a thin scratch across the palm of her right hand.
She stared at it while getting ready for school.
She couldn't remember hurting herself.
Maybe she had scratched it against something while sleeping.
That was probably it.
She didn't think about it again.
At least, she tried not to.
Because that was the night everything started.
The dreams.
The strange memories.
The photographs.
The boy she had never met.
And the questions she would spend months trying to answer.
She just didn't know yet that the scariest part wouldn't be finding out what was happening.
It would be finding out that she couldn't always trust what she saw.