Kitty Is Alive, Kitty Is Dead
by Jennifer Campbell-Hicks
"I wouldn't open that door if I were you."
Kitty stopped with her hand on the knob.
"Why not?" she asked.
When she didn't get an answer, she released the knob and turned around. The woman watched Kitty from a brown couch where she sprawled with one arm and one leg dangling limply over the edge.
They looked identical--same blond hair, same green eyes--except the other Kitty had a bullet hole in her forehead that dripped dark, viscous blood down the bridge of her nose, and her skin was white and slagged like a corpse's.
Kitty kept her distance.
"Why shouldn't I open the door?" she said.
Other Kitty sat up and wiped blood from her nose with her sleeve. There was a flicker, and the couch turned from brown to the bright pink of an Easter egg. "Do you know where we are?"
It was like a shipping container, except it was a perfect cube and furnished like a display at a furniture store--couches, side tables, lamps, an area rug. There were no windows and one door.
Everything felt hazy and dreamlike. Kitty had only a vague memory of how she had gotten here. She had volunteered for an experiment. She had needed the cash.
"This is more than a room," Other Kitty said.
"In here, anything is possible."