"The house is noisy. Too noisy. Every vibrant thing is emitting radiations that I was not capable of hearing before. It was all audible now. I sat on the sofa the whole day. I think he is still underneath. I still think I am accompanied. I still think the house is crowded. There is no one in my house. There is no one underneath the sofa. I stand up, but the confusion makes me freeze.

I think there is a hand on my ankle. Grabbing so hard it would pull me under the sofa in no time. I try to keep my balance and stay firm but it is not enough. I have to look down and see that there are no hands, but my eyes refuse to do so. I look at the house in front of me. It was a very happy house. Some days ago. Now. I don't understand what is wrong with it all.

I stand there for a long time before I move again. I move ahead and try to look for things that need to be moved.

Everything.

I pick up an old colourful zebra from the shelf and imagine where it would fit right. I turn and throw the zebra under the sofa, but it lands outside. I kick it in but it bounces right out again. I picked it up and put it under the sofa with my own hand. I keep my hand under it to make sure there's no one to grab them and pull me in. I keep my hand inside for too long. Too long. The zebra screams as he suffocates in my first."

"Are you okay?" Carol was pulled out of Rosiee's house suddenly. So suddenly that, the book in her hands fell on the table in front of her.

"Sorry. Yeah - I'm alright." She looked at the book and it was damaged too much this time. Not by the fall. The area of pages that were under her palm suffered too much of the damage. She probably squeezed it too hard again "Oh god!"

The accused who committed the crime of destroying her concentration, who pulled her out of her book stood there still, so she decided to look up and find out who was so jealous of her happiness.

"Dr. Debbs. I'm sorry I didn't mean to-" She pinched her thigh for saying that. Why was she sorry to him? It's not like he has written the book that she destroyed. Also it was her copy. And it was written by some very intelligent women somewhere on earth.

He picked up her book and she hid the face she wanted to make so well, he would not know she would be sanitising the book soon.

"Oh yeah, this part, It was soo intense. I almost cried when I read it the next morning." He did not cry any morning, but he was about to cry this morning.

"Oh yes. I remember you. Aren't you who had this stuff memorized by heart?"

He called the most precious book in the whole world 'This Stuff'. Why was he still conscious? "I am a big fan sir. I always wanted to meet the author." She never said he was the author. And she will never call herself a fan of this fraud of a man. She was still glad he remembered her from the interview. Her hard work did not go in vain.

"It pulls me right in. I'll have to mend this." She took the book from his hand and tried to do emergency first aid.

"You are always welcome to take books from these shelves, remember." He reminded her with a polite smile and she smiled back with a momentary eye contact. She could see the devil liar behind the mask clearly. Wishing he would leave her to her own business she turned around toward the sitting area table and tried to look for something in her bag.

"You are Miss–?"

"Caroline Loster"

"Yes, right. Miss Loster, Why do you like this book?" He would never understand that, but what can be a better start of the day for Carol, than talking about the things she loves.

"The fact that Rosiee imagined the reader right in front of her and started talking to them. I feel better knowing I can be there for her. I feel better helping her get through this even a bit."

She lightly tried to hint him that she does not accept him, a man, as the author of her beloved book but the PHDs of his did not give him the skill set to take hints at all.

"You think Rosiee was hallucinating?"

"Yes."

"Why?" His face was annoying again and she was holding her punch right by her thighs.

"I just know" She hated him as he chuckled at a very important answer. She could not wait for what he would say to try to hide the fact that he does not understand one bit of the book's feelings.

"Literature is perception. The beauty is in the eye of the beholder. I have heard that, but this is nice. Have you also considered that Rosie Noltac was someone who preferred being alone and generally felt comfortable in isolation.

That changed after the incident. Her home, which had always been a safe space for her, no longer felt empty or quiet. She began experiencing a sense of constant presence, as though there were voices or crowd around her.

This was not typical hallucination, because she remained aware that no one else was actually in the house. Her senses were not deceived. Instead, what she experienced was a psychological disturbance in which she could recognize reality but could not emotionally register it. She knew she was alone, but she could not feel alone."

"Do you suggest hallucinating a reader in the house must have been painful for her?"

"I think she was not hallucinating at all."

"What if she was. What if she was hallucinating? Do you suggest that would have made it easy for her or caused her more pain?"

He did not reply to the question. But he did not stop talking or leave either. He thought he could convince Carol with what his little mind thought Rosiee was feeling.

He thought he could change her perspective with a few worlds that sounded professional. She kept looking at his face. His lips closed and parted. Closed. Parted. Closed. Parted. Closed. Closed. Closed.

Carol realised he stopped talking too late, and jerked up when she did. He smiled, wished her a nice day and left. She stood there for some more minutes after his departure, before going up to her own department. Was he in the delusion that he won?

How could have Rosiee moved on if she did not hallucinate?

How could he say that the reader in her house was more painful to her than the marks of the dead body she refused to erase and just covered up by putting the sofa right back to its place.

Did Rosiee feel uncomfortable because of Carol? She kept juggling the equations inside her head. It would be an uncomfortable week if she could not find something to move on from this news.

Was the reader painful to Rosiee?

Carol caused more pain to Rosiee.

It was a hard realisation.