Logline: At a psychiatric youth hospital, a volatile teen with unexplained powers becomes the key to solving the disappearance of a young woman — drawing dangerous attention in the process.

Short Synopsis: Eighteen-year-old Bethany Albright is confined to a psychiatric hospital after a history of violent psychic episodes no one can explain. When a news report about a missing university student triggers a disturbing vision, Bethany insists the girl is being hunted in real time. Her new therapist becomes determined to separate delusion from truth, pushing Bethany deeper into the experience. As surveillance tightens and suspicion builds, the line between mental illness and something far more dangerous begins to blur. Inside an institution built on certainty, Bethany’s visions threaten to expose a reality no one is prepared to confront.

Director’s Statement: The Hollow Girl explores the lingering presence of trauma—how it distorts memory, isolates the survivor, and demands acknowledgment before it can be confronted. It is a horror film, but its deepest fear lies in being dismissed, disbelieved, or institutionalized for telling the truth. At its core, this story is about young women whose voices are treated as unreliable. Bethany exists inside a system that claims to protect her while steadily stripping her of credibility. Her visions are labeled symptoms. Her certainty becomes pathology. The institution around her operates on authority and control—on the assumption that power defines reality.

We are living in a moment where stories of exploitation surface again and again, and where young women often find their experiences questioned before they are heard. The Hollow Girl approaches that tension through genre. Horror allows the unseen to take shape. It externalizes what society prefers to ignore. In this film, the supernatural is not spectacle—it is a metaphor for testimony that refuses to be silenced.

Much of my work lives in the space where the psychological and the supernatural overlap. I’m drawn to characters whose inner lives are treated as threats. Bethany is feared not because she is violent, but because she perceives something others cannot—or do not want to acknowledge. That dynamic mirrors a larger cultural anxiety: when those without power speak, institutions often respond by containing them.

In The Hollow Girl, the monster is not only in the dark. It is embedded in authority, protected by certainty, and hidden behind professionalism. That proximity makes it far more dangerous— and far more real.