Yara's limbs felt heavy and unresponsive as if they were bound by invisible chains. She was in a dimly lit room, unable to discern her surroundings. The air was thick with an ominous presence, and a figure moved in the shadows around her, just beyond the reach of the sparse light. The figure's movements were fluid, almost serpentine, and their voice dripped with malicious amusement.
"Are you enjoying playing pretend, Yara?" The voice was smooth, yet carried a biting edge. "Does it feel good, deceiving everyone?"
Yara's heart pounded in her chest. She tried to move, to speak, but her body remained paralyzed. "I've done no such thing," she finally managed to force out, her voice trembling.
The figure scoffed, their derision palpable. "You're so predictable. Always denying the truth. You don't care about anyone but yourself. You just don't want to be seen as the useless person you really are."
Yara's brow furrowed in defiance. "That's not true! I—"
