The demons feel more confident with my cooperation and so they allow me more ‘privileges’ than before. I am not constantly restrained in my room. They allow me the luxury of a few books. It is almost an acceptable existence except for one thing. They will not let me see my daughter. I fear for her more than I fear for myself because I know the hatred my sister has for me and how she will project it onto Jordan. Jordan is a strong girl. I have to tell myself that every second I am here and not with her. I have endured unspeakable things in this place, but I worry she will endure worse. She does not deserve it. She never will.
Gabriel contacted me again and revealed that Andrew is on their side. They received word that the demons wanted someone to gain my trust to fool me into cooperating with them. He has been sent to monitor my stay here and unravel the secrets the demons are keeping. I do not know how successful he has been in this endeavor. I do know, though, that when he smiles, I feel safe. It is a strange feeling. Our time has been so short and yet I find myself relieved when he shows up for our sessions. It is foolish, but it is one of the only things that keeps me going.
August 15th, 1993
Andrew and I seem to have reached some sort of comfortable level now that I know he is not one of the demons’ ploys. I have not met many charming men in my life, but he is one of the few. He often answers my questions with questions—a trait of both intelligent and infuriating men. When he’s feeling generous, he tells me a little bit about his life.
Currently, he does not know about any other Seers in the states. Based on what I’ve heard, he is one of the most skilled Seers there has ever been. He has been helping ghosts cross over for nearly three decades, and he has had some vicious encounters with demons as well. He does not like to talk about the scars—especially not the one above his eye—and so I do not prod him about them, but I know he probably got them from protecting someone. However, beneath the charm, I sense there is more. He has no family and no ties to anyone because of his valuable abilities. He openly admits that coming to this hospital puts us both at risk, but he never backs down from a challenge. He is the one who told me that Dr. Vulcan, the head psychiatrist, is actually the demon Mulciber in disguise. The only reason he has been allowed access to the hospital is because he has mastered his powers to the point where he can pass himself off as a normal person.
When I asked him if he regrets his gift, he merely shrugged and said that it was a life, nothing more, nothing less. I told him that wasn’t much. He smiled at me and said ‘It’s enough.’
Maybe it is.
August 16th, 1993
Is it possible to find light in the darkness?
August 17th, 1993
For the first time since I’ve been here, I was allowed to go outside. I had forgotten about the wind and how it feels in my hair and on my cheeks. I actually cried. Shameful. Andrew was the one who convinced them to let me have some fresh air. We were only allowed out for ten minutes, but that time alone made the shackles feel loose, almost nonexistent. Maybe this kind of serenity means my time here is drawing to a close. I do not know. What I do know is something inside me has changed, and not because of my imprisonment here. It is because of Andrew.
He gave me a rose today. I want to blame my happiness about this fact on the isolation and the desperation I’ve experienced in this little slice of Hell, but when he held my hand for that brief moment, I knew I had found myself again. Holding his hand reminded me of my former husband, Lewis, before he became a bastard, when we were young and in love. God help me. I am not capable of love. Or at least I thought I wasn’t. It would be better for me to forget. I cannot.
He calls me Cat.
I wish I didn’t love that about him.
August 18th, 1993
Something is wrong.
I believe that the demons are going to make a move soon. Today, they claimed that my behavior implicated signs of suicidal tendencies and so they placed a security guard in my room for ‘safety reasons.’ Furthermore, I did not have a session with Andrew today. They told me he had other arrangements. I cannot remember ever feeling so afraid. All I can think about is whether they have caught on to him and hurt him, or worse. I cannot escape by myself to look for him.
However, there was one ray of hope. When the men came in for my daily examination, they gave me a glass-less picture frame they said was from Andrew as part of my therapy—a photo that had been confiscated from my wallet. It was my senior portrait from high school. It seemed only for sentimental reasons, but just after they left I found a scrap of paper hidden behind the frame. I waited until nightfall when the guard left for a brief break and read it in the moonlight. There was no name, only a poem. It took me a moment to recognize it as W.H. Auden’s “Song IX.” I used to read his poems when I was learning English.
I do not know if this is a warning or a confession, but I know it is important and so I have kept it close by. I believe that whatever reason they have chosen to abduct me for is going to come to fruition tonight. I cannot explain why. It is just a feeling in my gut.
There is nothing left to do except wait. If this is my last entry, then so be it. I have led a good life. I have seen many wonders. I have laughed. I have cried. I have loved. I have…lived. Our Father gave us no greater privilege than that.