I don't usually use the internet for this kind of thing, okay?!

Look, I don't usually use the internet for anything other than work or learning educational things. It's either those two, or I use it to communicate with my family or consume the next TV show or movie franchise I fancy.

I am not the type to follow trends. Most trends are just fads. They flare to the point that it's the only thing you'll see in a room, then flicker and fade as a wandering smoke.

I don't know what possessed me to do this. My most vomit-inducing artworks are inside a large circle I drew with chalk. Four lit candles stand at the north, south, west, and east sides of the said circle. My work studio is dark, aside from the little light sources on the floor and a floating blue-skinned lady wearing a white chiton.

I am torn between loudly demanding her identity or asking what foundation brand she used in order to achieve that lovely shade of blue. It doesn't look like any foundation I've used in my entire life. It blended to her skin well.

I also want to know where she bought the fabric. There's only one fabric store within fifty kilometers of this province and it would be a blessing to know if I missed a fabric store. I've been making do with linen, polyester, and curtain fabrics since my first Renaissance Faire. If it is an online store, I would ask for its name and the website it's currently in. I know that chiton wasn't store-bought. It looked too good to be one.

I wanted to ask all of those things, but I kept my mouth shut.

"Turn off your phone, please." the floating lady, who I am so close to considering a home invader, asks. Not that I really think she's a home invader. I don't think criminals have already invented a teleportation device, nor do I think anyone will use the ability to teleport on something as petty as breaking into a poor woman's house. That's just a waste of resources, I think. It would also be over the top to use any tech that enables you to float for a small crime.

"No." I respond. I need the proof that I am not, in any way, hallucinating. Because there's a huge chance that this might be a hallucination. If I discover tomorrow morning that I was seeing things after sleeping off this bizarre scene, then I need to check if there are leaks in the house. Or if I ate something bad today.

"Your phone is still recording this, Ella." the lady reasons. She points in the direction of my computer desk, which is only three meters away from us. My phone is attached to a stand, recording this insanity with its back camera.

"Be thankful that we're not live on social media." I say to the woman. "And did you just utter my name? Have you been stalking me? Or is this just a regular robbery, because trust me, I am just a starving artist."

"No!" the lady denied.

"Right. I'll call the police, then."

The lady's jaw drops. "How rude! You call me and then deny it!"

That made my eyebrow rise. "I did not make any calls."

"Really?" the blue lady snaps. "Then what do you think of that?"

She points at the circle.

"A moment of insanity, ma'am." And it is insanity. Or sadness, I guess. I really need to get out of the house more after this if loneliness is starting to affect my perception of reality.

"A moment...a moment of insanity." the lady flatly repeats, face void of emotion. Then her apathy turns into an offended look. "No, you called for me!"

I look at her from her sandaled feet to her pristine white chiton, then to her intricately woven crown braid.

"Ma'am, I would know if I called a tech-savvy cosplayer to help me with my art or something. And the last person I called, by the way, was my mother. Last time I checked, my mother does not have a propensity of dressing up as some sort of a fictional character."

The lady's jaw drops once again. My response made her cover her face as she groaned in frustration.

"This is just my lucky day." the floating woman mutters in a low tone. "I get to my first successful wisher and she thinks I am a cosplayer stalking her..."

The lady continues her rant. I tune out her words. I step closer and grab her hand, but I just stumble and pass her body like nothing is there. Like she's a ghost.

"Yeah, I am definitely hallucinating." I whispered to myself.

I hear another groan.

"I am not a hallucination!"

I shake my head at the words of my 'imaginary friend'. "Yeah, I really need to sleep this off."

I then hear a sigh as the blue lady twirls and hovers to my front with a grace I can never achieve. She gives me an 'I'm done with this' look. "And I shall let you do so. Goodnight!"

A strong gust of wind blows the fire on my candles. Papers from my shelf fly and sway mid-air. I cover my eyes with my hands until the wind stopped. A few seconds later, I open my eyes just to see that the room is now empty of any living occupants except for me.

I really need to sleep this weird hallucination off.

I stop my phone's video recording. I lock my studio and sleep this peculiar night out of my memories.

The next day, I wake up to sun rays hitting my face. The clear windows show the light blue sky outside, with my next-door neighbor visibly hanging her laundry from the second floor of her house. I turn to the small drawer next to my bed and the digital clock is right there, indicating that it is already six o'clock in the morning.

I woke up before my alarm could wake me up, I guess. Lucky me.

"Coffee first." I mutter.

"Not before we have our conversation, girl." a somehow familiar voice says.

I turn around and see a blue-skinned lady floating at the top of my bed.

The event that happened last night floods back to my mind. It was the same blue-skinned lady in white chiton.

"What in the world..."