The Dead House

I think I’m not a very nice person. Me: army brat who hates his dad. I don’t care about very much some days, which I feel like is mostly because of this rootless existence I live with the asshole who shares my genes but not my emotional level, and I’m kind of scared I might be forced to leave, yet again, before I get to know this girl I met. I struggle to forgive wrongs done against me because I can’t ever forget them—I have an eidetic memory. I wear bowler hats because I hate my hair, but I despise fashion. I would like to have a cat one day, even though I hate animals, and I would very much like to know your story.

Full of Contradictions,

Ari





From: RealxChick To: AriHait558

Date: 7 November 2004



Subject: Re: Re: Confession



My name is Kaitlyn, and I am a ghost. I don’t exist, or so they tell me.


During the day, I literally don’t exist. Most people go to sleep, wake up to the sun, and walk around in the light. Not me. My world is, and has always been, darkness, shadows, night.


My sister (we’ve always used that word), Carly, and I exist in the same body. I only come out at night. Carly is the one you see during the day at school, the one who ignores you, the one who probably looks at you like you’re a total stranger (if she looks at you at all), and the one everyone thought was at that party. I’m Kait—I’m the one who talks to you in the confession booth, who has a WEIRD sense of humor, or lack of it, the one you went swimming with, the one you went to the party with, and the one you’ve been writing to. Me, Kaitlyn.


My doctor is convinced that I’m not really here. She keeps trying to convince me of it too. Sometimes she wears me down enough that I start to think maybe she’s right. But I didn’t appear after my parents died, as she is convinced—I’ve always been here. It’s just the way we are. Me and Carly, together in one form.


We keep this secret because we always have. Our parents sort of convinced us it was the best way, unless we wanted to be locked away in a mental ward for the duration of the universe. We even talked about pretending it was some kind of memory problem or something. In the end, though, they just decided to hide me away. I’ve been hidden ever since. I guess they were right after all. People do think I’m crazy when I tell the truth. They try to trick me—lie to me. Tell me things… that are so beyond hurtful that I think they must be denizens from hell to do that. They make me feel like poison. Like an illness. A symptom of some horrible disease.


But hopefully you won’t. I don’t expect you to believe what I’m telling you. But please, please, at least acknowledge this email.


For obvious reasons, I hate to be ignored.

Sincerely and very afraid,

Kaitlyn Johnson, Girl of Nowhere





From: AriHait558

To: RealxChick

Date: 7 November 2004



Subject: Re: Re: Re: Confession Dear Kaitlyn,



I believe you. Mostly because I made good on my threat. I did go and talk to you during lunch the other day. I walked right up to—Carly, I guess?—and said, “You missed confession, young lady.” When she stared at me for a full five seconds without saying anything, I asked about the party, and she looked really confused. She stared at me like I was the Minotaur, and then Naida comes up and says, “Gotta go!” and steers Carly away without a word. It seemed odd that she’d protect you from me when we were at the party together. It wasn’t normal. I knew something was wrong. Different.


This raises all kinds of questions about the nature of reality, the nature of self, the idea of souls, the idea of the afterlife, questions about genetics, the mind— You do realize you’re a regular science project?

Ari




PS—Thank you for your confession. I promise to keep it locked away as long as you like. But you should know that I really like you exactly like this. Exactly as you are. Kaitlyn.


I love your name.





From: RealxChick

To: AriHait558

Date: 7 November 2004



Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Confession



I am very, very aware of the fact that I’m a science project—gone wrong. I seriously can’t believe you haven’t gone running for the hills.

K





From: AriHait558

To: RealxChick

Date: 7 November 2004



Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Confession



I don’t scare easily, though I expect others do? It’s fine if you don’t want to talk about it.

Come to the booth. I want to see you. I have questions. No cookies today—don’t want to make Carly fat without her permission. Doesn’t seem fair.

A





From: RealxChick

To: AriHait558

Date: 7 November 2004



Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Confession



Oh, clever. We have a sense of humor.

Be there in 10.

K





37



[The following entry was pasted into the journal.]



Diary of Kaitlyn Johnson


Friday, 12 November 2004, 8:00 pm

Dorm