Aaliyah was a girl born to contrast. By day, she was the dutiful daughter in a traditional Muslim family, folding her dreams neatly like the prayer mats after Fajr. By night, she was a wanderer of the gothic realm, her fingers adorned with silver rings and her eyes tracing the edges of mystery books by candlelight. Her world was painted in pinks and blacks - delicate florals blending into thorny roses.

But Aaliyah was never truly understood. Her parents - strict yet loving in their own way - valued her success in academics and discipline in faith over her wild dreams of exploring the unknown. "This is not our way," her mother would say when Aaliyah showed her sketches of the eerie forests she dreamed about.

Aaliyah's questions about the universe - about life, death, and the shadows in between - were dismissed as childish whims. Yet, when the dreams started, those haunting, vivid dreams of shadowy figures and eerie whispers, she couldn't help but wonder if they were a sign - a pull toward something beyond the ordinary