Testing Reality

The Third Test

Inside, the house felt heavier than outside. Not temperature. But atmosphere. Empty houses always felt sharper when her mind wasn't steady. She closed the door behind her, locking it even though she knew it wouldn't stop the things only she could see.

She dropped her bag on the floor and stood there for a moment, letting the silence settle. Normally she liked silence. Today it felt like the walls were listening. Every small creak, every hum of the fridge, seemed louder than usual, like the house itself was alive.

Evelyn moved into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water. Her hands trembled as she watched the water slowly pouring into her cup, she was waiting for her hands to stop trembling. They didn't. She took a small sip anyway, ignoring the way the cold slid down her throat like tiny needles.

The figure at the end of the street replayed in her head. It hadn't moved. It hadn't walked towards her, it had just been there. Wrong in a way her brain couldn't explain, yet impossible to ignore. Her pulse quickened for a moment, then slowed again as she reminded herself:
She didn't respond to hallucinations. She only responded to reality.

She pressed her fingers against her temples, trying to focus.

"That wasn't real" she whispered. She wanted to believe it. She wasn't sure she did.

Back in her room, she opened her notebook again flipping to page three. She had already learned that writing things down helped tell what real and what wasn't. Patterns. Tests. Predictable reactions. Everything needed to fit somewhere.

Test #3 - Visual Confirmation
Prediction: ???
Result: Unclear
Notes: Figure observed for <1 second.
Possible hallucination. Still feels real.

She stared at the words longer than she probably should've. The pen marks looked too dark on the paper, too sharp, like they didn't match the lightning in her room. Her mind played tricks on her eyes. Shadows in the corner flickered. Lines in the floorboards seemed to move. But she reminded herself: she only reacted to the things she could measure.

Her thoughts started swirling-messy, crowded fast, too fast. She closed her notebook, pressing it against her chest for a second. That wasn't a test. That was... something else.
Something she didn't want to deal with yet.

She needed control.
Tests gave her control.
Patterns gave her control.
Predictable outcomes kept the chaos at bay.

She moved to her desk and began planning tomorrow. She needed a test that couldn't lie.
Something physical. Something that forced a real reaction. Not just a brush or a flinch, but q response she could see and document. Something undeniable. Something solid.

Her fingers hovered above the notebook as she imagined different scenarios: small gestures, subtle interactions, ways to push people just enough to get a reaction. Not cruel-just measured. Enough to prove what she already suspected: reality cloud be confirmed. It could be tested.

Outside, the wind rattled the windows, whispering through the gaps. It felt alive. Evelyn watched the shadows stretch across the floor. They didn't scare her anymore. They were part of the pattern. Part of the puzzle.

Her breathing began to slow down. The chaos in her head retreated to the edges, leaving just the quiet hum of her own control. Tomorrow would be different. It had to be. She would make sure of it.

And she already knew who she'd test next.

Someone unpredictable.
Someone who would hide their reaction.

Someone who would tell her, without meaning to, what was real... and what wasn't.

Evelyn lay back down on her bed, tracing the faint cracks in the ceiling with her eyes. They looked like branching lines on a map-paths leading somewhere she couldn't see yet. Somewhere she needed to go.

And for the first time she felt ready.