The Dead House

Naida nods. “Okay… um… see you around.”


Footsteps, a door closing, and then Naida bends forward, covering her face with her hands. It is unclear whether she is crying.

[END OF CLIP]



Diary of Kaitlyn Johnson


Sunday, 26 September 2004, 8:00 pm

Attic

So Mike’s door was apparently taken right off its hinges while he slept, and no one can find the door. It’s vanished into thin air. That’s not all. The mirror in the Juniper House boys’ bathroom was completely smashed—and no one heard a thing. And then there’s Mike’s face… cut to little pieces. Creeeeeeeeepy. The police are being all hush-hush about it too, and Mike hasn’t been back to school since. I think there’s something more that they’re not telling us.

Principal Roth called the police. And, naturally, the police wanted to talk to me—I guess because of my parents or maybe just because of Claydon and Carly’s meds. Technically, we’re the only people person who are is a social-deviancy risk. This was after dinner, thank God. If they had treated Carly the way they treated me and I found out about it later, I’d have done something stupid.

As it was, I simply listened to them ask the same questions over and over.

“Do you know what happened to the door to Mike’s room?”

No.

“Did you remove the door to Mike’s room?”

No.

“Do you and Mike associate in school?”

No.

“Did you and Mike have a falling-out?”

No. (Get on with it already.)

“Are you currently taking your medication?”

(Screw you.) Yes. Is that all?

“We’ll be in touch again.”

(Goodie for me.) Uh-huh.

Automatically it’s me, right? Oh, yes, Officer, I unscrewed Mike’s forty-five-pound door and carried it out of the dorm on my back and then buried it in the graveyard Forgotten Garden, then proceeded to smash the bathroom mirror—all without anyone hearing a thing. Oh, right. I must have drugged everyone with the enormous amounts of nitrazepam they give me, which I secretly hide on the roof of my mouth, so they all slept right through it. Prick.

I’ll admit that it’s odd. Me, awake all night, and I didn’t hear anything either. I can see into his room from across the courtyard, so, really, I should have seen something. Then again, I try to avoid being in the dorm too much. It feels like Carly’s, not mine.

If I’m the accused, I want to see this for myself.



Diary of Kaitlyn Johnson


Monday, 27 September 2004, 2:35 am

Attic

I went to check out the missing-door situation. I climbed in through Mike’s window, because he’s gone home now, and wandered around. It smelled like guy, and I don’t even know why. It just did. Instinctively, I knew that the musk in there was male, nothing more.

Much like Magpie House, the dorms in Juniper House are plain and boring, though interior decoration varies from most of the useless crap I see in the girls’ rooms. More posters, less jewelry (although still some), and more clothes in unlikely places (windowsill, sink, and trash can). I wondered if Ari’s room was like this. I could have found out… I thought about going to Pinewood Hall and looking into every window until I found his.

But I had to focus.

Apart from the missing door, which was kind of like a giant hole in a person’s face, the room looked normal. I inspected the hinges and found them intact, if missing the door. What would I feel like if I arrived to find my door missing, Dee?

The bathroom was another story.

At first, everything looked completely normal. The mirror looked perfect—new, even. I couldn’t believe how fast they’d replaced it, but I guess I wasn’t that surprised. Maybe it posed a health and safety risk. Maybe Elmbridge just didn’t want ugliness anywhere near it. I glanced at myself, for some reason put in mind of my reflection when I spied on Naida from out in the beech tree—how I thought I saw my reflection smile at me.

I frowned, pulling faces at myself, making sure that my reflection followed suit and in perfect time. For a minute, I was stupid enough to think that… maybe… if I looked really hard, I would see Carly in there, looking out at me. But it was just me, of course, and I felt like an idiot.

“Nothing,” I muttered, glancing around once. “How disappointing.”

I rolled my eyes and headed for the exit. As I got to the door, I turned back one last time— The mirror was gone.

Utterly,

Completely,

Gone.

Not a mirror. Not my reflection looking back.

A yawning black hole.

I tried to scream, but I was frozen, locked in place by the sight of such… nothingness. My voice was gone, sucked into that dark expanse, which seemed to be inhaling. One giant, terrible breath. Pulling me closer. My heart skipped a beat, then thumped painfully, then raced like it was trying to escape.

I just kept thinking,

This isn’t real.

This can’t be real.

This isn’t real.