Something wrong with the light

There was something wrong with the light, something about the way it dispersed on the walls never reaching the corners of the room. The difference was subtle, but Matt noticed it on the very first day in his new room. Or should he call it a cell?

They told him he wasn’t a prisoner. They explained the court committed him here, and he couldn’t leave until the doctor signs off on his release. But they insisted he was a patient, not a detainee. 

“You’re here to get better, Matthew” - said the man who introduced himself as doctor Masterson. “Sometimes reality is just too much, the tidal wave of events becomes overwhelming, and the mind retreats into fiction of its own devise. Something it can control, a narrative that may seem like horror but offers a set of easy rules, sets a comfortable order. A person will retreat into such a fantasy world and some will call it insanity. The fact is the mind clings to what sanity it has left and protects itself from stimuli that would push it beyond the point of no return. You’re an educated man, Matthew. A scientist, I am told. I’m telling you all this to anchor you. To appeal to the part of you that is logical and pragmatic. So that you know what is happening to you, and you can apply the scientific method to your own case. Observe, analyze, draw conclusions, and - hopefully - break away from the fantasy your mind has created for itself to cope with the…”

Matt was looking the doctor straight in the eye the entire time, so Masterson would assume he was listening intently. He wasn’t. “Are you wearing contacts?” - he asked. “Pardon?” - the doctor was surprised by the sudden question. “Are you wearing contact lenses?” “No, I have great sight, why?” “No reason.”

The way the doctor’s eyes refracted sunlight coming through the window was all wrong. Matt couldn’t focus on anything that was said to him. The light was all wrong. It made everything feel alien, like some fundamental rule of reality wasn’t being followed here.

Weeks passed. The pills they’ve been giving him made the world look real. Temptation rose. It was quite simple to convince himself that he had not been abducted into a simulation, but was actually having a mental breakdown after the thing had happened. The thing he wouldn’t remember, and they were very careful not to mention. He knew the thing was their incursion into the real world and dragging him kicking and screaming into this illusory realm. They wanted him to start thinking the thing was some trauma he would need to make himself face, eventually. Something as mundane as death of a loved one, an accident, or fatal self-harm. This was all sounding so probable, and simple. It would have been so easy and comforting to trust Masterson. Matt could almost convince himself to go with it. But he had to make sure. He started stashing the pills. The light was all wrong again.

“You’ve almost had me” - Matt felt defiant, and thought it wouldn’t matter anyway if he talks to the shrink or not. “I almost believed you, but you’re right. I was, no! I am a scientist. I can’t ignore facts. Like the fact you people - if you are people - botched the raycasting algorithm, or whatever trick you use to display light in that simulation of yours.” The way Masterson looked at him, would convince Matt that he was genuinely concerned and even sad, if it wasn’t for that otherworldly spark in his eyes. “Matthew, I can’t help you if you keep sabotaging yourself. The key to escaping this fantasy you’ve exiled yourself into lies within yourself.”

Matt felt silent. This was it. He pushed them, and they gave it away. He was now sure there was a small glass prism that he could use to capture the broken light and set it right, and if he did, he would break the simulation. He knew it wouldn't be a part of this world, so it had to be a part of him. Buried somewhere between his bowels, where they couldn’t find it and take it away from him.

All he needed to do now was to smuggle something sharp into his cell.