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The next time Talia opened her eyes, she was surrounded in a bottomless void. There seemed to be no way in or out, so Talia could not recall how she got here in the first place.

She tried calling out for her father, but the only reply she received was her crying echos. Her breathing begun to grow heavy and she could feel her intestines tying knots, as if she was anticipating for something to happen. The most dreadful part was not knowing when she would be suspended into a terrifying and ominous nightmare. Every step she took made her heart beat faster, the sweat clinging to her nape and palms like water to leaves.

Unexpectedly, lights turned on one by one, startling the young woman. They were all lighting up in the same direction, as if they were trying to guide Talia somewhere. But a voice in the back of her head kindly warned her against following the trail of light. 'What you may find at the end may not be to your liking.'

And Talia knew that she should give that little voice the benefit of the doubt, but at the same time, what good would she gain from lingering in a room of nothingness that only radiated gloom?

So with false bravery, she journeyed with the lights despite the cautions. There was only one way to find out what awaited her at the end. And who knows? Maybe it was her father or April.

Only except when the last light flickered on, Talia was puzzled to see the star of the show was a hospital stretcher. Even more, that puzzlement converted into horror when she realized there was a person resting on top.

And that person was none other than herself.

Talia stared at her doppelgänger as if it were some mutant creature that slithered out of her. Every detail was down to the tea— her olive skin gleamed like copper under the light; her hair— when Talia twirled a curly lock from her clone around her finger— felt real. A little too real. This replica also wore the exact same Star of David necklace around her neck, only instead of being dressed in a tank top and pink pajama pants, she was fitted into a loose hospital gown.

Where did this look-alike come from? None of this is making any sense! Talia didn't know what was going on, but the more she thought about it, the more she was seconds away from full-out panicking.

She did not have time to ponder over the matter because in an instant, her clone awoke from her slumber and seized her wrist. Talia gasped just as her doppelgänger's eyes shot open. Even the eye color was identical— two cloudy orbs of grey and light blue, ready to storm the night.

Her doppelgänger breathed, "You have to remember."

Remember what? What do I have to remember?

Bright flashes come and go, making Talia feel a vibe that she would describe as 'unfriendly.' Amidst the darkness, she could hear the faint sound of a conversation between a huddle of people, shivering when the noise reached a certain level of turbulence.

The shadows in front of her rippled violently, molding into what Talia could make out as human-like silhouettes. An eerie singing voice followed, which sounded like voices coming from the bottom of a well. A few figures shimmered to life, and while she did not recognize the majority of them, there was one that made her breath hitch.

". . .Imma?" Talia felt all the stops being pulled out. She thought she was hallucinating, but everything about her mother seemed too existent for her to notice if what she was seeing was an illusion or not. Her mother's hair was as curly as a princess's and her eyes held all the love and care in the world— just how they were when she would tuck Talia in every night when she was a little girl and say, "As long as I am here, no monster is going to get you."

Talia's eyes watered as her emotions overwhelmed her. "Imma!" She ran like a child who had been separated from its mother for far too long.

"Eyn lach muság káma aní mitga'a gá'at elaich," Talia spoke in Hebrew in a brittle voice. Nothing else mattered. All she wanted was to embrace her mother and to be told that everything would be alright. She felt like all her loneliness and sorrow would disappear if she could just hug her like before.

Her face. . . It looks so timeless. Talia reached her hand out to touch her mother's face, but it felt like she was touching mist. It was as if her mother suddenly turned into a ghost.

Genesis stared dead ahead and did not acknowledge Talia's existence, treading by to reach the doppelgänger still lying on the stretcher. Then, Talia heard her mother say, "This is the only way, my little Talia. No will ever know."

Genesis then turned away from her doppelgänger. Talia did not know if her mother was looking at her or the desolation of black behind her, but she could see the dread spiraling in her eyes like spokes from a wheel.

"I'm sorry." Those were Genesis's last words before a duo of sickles sharper than dragon claws sprouted from behind, the fatal blow indistinguishable from the one that ended her life days ago.

Abruptly, Talia woke up drenched in sweat from head to toe, a choking gasp escaping her throat. The sensation of goosebumps and shivering was like a million bugs crawling all over her body and trying to find openings in her skin to slip inside. She did everything she could to regulate her breathing as she tried to ignore the intense nausea she was feeling.

She turned her head the other way and saw that her father was still sound asleep in the other bed, heaving up and down slightly. Good. She did not want to awaken her father over some nightmare.

Talia wiped away the sweat from her face, falling back down onto her pillow. She had her sight on the ceiling until she recounted the details one more time, which was where she broke down crying as silently as she could.

***

The nightmare she had last night was like a pesky fly— no matter what you did, it would always find another way to bother you. Talia tried to concentrate on other important matters at hand, but snippets of her freaky dream incorporated itself in every direction Talia turned. Even the people on the street wore her doppelgänger and mother's face like masks. If she did not pull it together, the possibility of her stepping onto the busy street while distracted and getting ran over by a car was more than likely.

At least she and her father were able to see the apartment this morning. Their home was located inside a a four-story chestnut-colored building squished between a red brick building and a creamy white one. When Talia took a look around, she tried to feel like home, but the truth was that she felt incomplete. It was not due to the fact that her new home was nothing like her old one, but because her mother was no longer here. Without her, Talia felt like the walls were a thousand times more suffocating, like they would cave in on her in any moment. The day her mother was murdered was when she took every last bit of space with her.

The feeling grew worse when it hit Talia that tomorrow was the first day of school— the first time her mother would not be around to take a picture with her like she did the previous years. Talia's eyes ached from holding back tears.

Earlier she had called April and asked if she could come over to present the research she had accumulated. April was more than happy to say yes. So when Talia arrived at her apartment, April clapped her hands and grinned wider than the Cheshire Cat.

"My ears are ready, Taly." April chugged down a carton of orange juice and slammed the fridge shut.

"It may sound unbelievable, but I believe there is a connection." Talia pulled out the book, a stack of papers held together by a paper clip, and her notebook and placed them on the coffee table.

"First, the assassinations," Talia initiated, opening her notebook to a page scribbled with different names, dates, and details. "Turns out, my mother was not the first person who had an envelope of black sand sent to her before her demise. All throughout history, I've counted at least 20 assassinations fitting the same M.O, including President John F. Kennedy."

April's eyebrows arched after reading the names in her head. Whoever sent them really do know how to get around. "But aren't these all politically motivated assassinations? I think with what happened with your mother was a bit more. . . personal."

Talia did not think much about it, but it had reason to be plausible. Why was the man so quick to assume it was her mother who was behind the alleged theft? From the way they were talking, it appeared to be that her mother and the man knew each other beforehand. But the question was: were they mere acquaintances? Or was it possible they had a friendship?

If that were true, why would one kill their own friend? "It is very likely that my mother may have had past interactions with her murderer. But when I realized the black sand detail popped up in every assassination I researched, I was able to uncover more using this—" Talia pointed to the book, which to her right now, was more valuable than a sack of diamonds.

Talia stuck a bookmark where the most significant page was, so she skipped a chunk of the book to save her and April a couple of seconds.

When April read through the entire chapter, to say it was interesting was an understatement. This was exactly the kind of story she aspired to one day cover about when she became a journalist. A cold shiver wriggled down her spine at the thought of researching and writing various topics; the possibilities were endless.

"So you think the person who murdered your mother is possibly connected to a ninja clan?" April eyeballed  the page, feeling herself absorb all of its mighty knowledge. "But didn't ninjas die out centuries ago?"

"They did." Talia nodded. "But The Foot Clan was the only known clan to send envelopes of black sand before wiping out the person of interest. I have a strong reason to believe that they are up and active now."

"Can you imagine the newspaper title if someone did a story on this: Ninjas in New York? And here I thought things couldn't get any bizarre. But how or why did your mother ever come in kahoots with a centuries-old ninja clan? Unless she was in the mood to learn ninjitsu. . ."

If there was something Talia wished for, it would be to have every one of her questions answered. Not knowing everything was killing her. "Only two people know— the man who murdered my mother, and my mother herself, who unfortunately took all her secrets to the grave. But I am going to dig until I find what I am looking for. Speaking of information, did your friend get back to you yet?"

"Not yet." April shook her head. "But I have a feeling it will be soon."

Talia dipped her head. All she could do for now was wait until the results were in, but it was proven a bit difficult than she imagined. She was itching to move on with her investigation. The sooner, the better.

Talia had nothing to add to the conversation, so she stared at the pictures hung up on the wall. What she had noticed for a while now (but never spoke on the matter) was that there was not a single picture where April was posed with both her parents. There were several with just April and her father, but it was like the mother was nonexistent— cut out from their lives. Of course, Talia had a feeling that it was something more than that, but she probably might never know. April never talked about her mom, and Talia knew better than to ask. It was April's decision if she wanted to open up about her. Talia was raised not to pry in other people's affairs.

Only except that Talia was here, doing it to her own mother.

"I had this nightmare," Talia confessed. She tried so hard not to think about her doppelgänger and her mother being killed all over again. As much as recalling the details made her feel spooked to the core, she told everything to April. The redhead felt mostly disturbed by the end of it, but she also shared Talia's confusion at what the doppelgänger had said.

"Dreams are all about messages and symbolism and all that spiritual pazzaz," April said. "You said your other you was wearing a hospital gown, right? On a stretcher? Maybe this was your brain's way of telling you that a repressed memory of you at the hospital could be helpful with solving your mother's murder?"

Talia frowned. "For what reason? As far as I can remember, I've never even been admitted to the hospital recently. The last time was when I was three years old— and that was for an allergic reaction to meat. I do not believe that was what my doppelgänger was referring to. Besides, what does it have to do with with my mother?"

April snapped her fingers. "That's the million-dollar question, my friend. I know that this sounds totally wrong, but maybe if you have another nightmare, it could give you another clue and eventually, when you have all the pieces, you can build the puzzle. You never know— maybe this nightmare you had is relevant to this mystery in some way."

After last night, Talia was not in the mood to have another nightmare interrupt her beauty rest, but she saw her best friend had a point. Dreams were not always memories, but inspired by memories. It was possible that her dream was trying to tell her something.

Or maybe it was just to haunt her of her mother's unexpected death.

"If there is a next time, I certainly hope this one isn't as terrifying as the last one," Talia shuddered. "But enough about that. Tomorrow we have a challenge to face."

"What challenge?" April blinked.

"First day of school, remember?"

"Shit. I'm not looking forward to wearing that ridiculous uniform."

"I think they make us look classy."

"That's because it looks better on you than it does me."

"Don't say that. You look just as good in a skirt as anyone else."

April lightly blushed. "Still not looking forward to it."

Talia muffled her laugh with her sleeve. She had not laughed much since the day her mother died, but hearing herself made her realize how much she missed it.

How much she missed the person she was before things changed for the worst, for she would soon find herself shrouded in an inescapable darkness.