The Dead House

They saw me push them away, when I was screaming for their love.

It’s too hard. I can’t admit to this flaw—this chink in my armor. So I walked around in that ever-night, and I felt afraid, and I climbed on the roof hoping that someday I would feel the bright moon on my skin. I still long for that, and more. Until then, Dee… I’ll be honest. I’ll be honest with you.

I’m afraid. I’m so, so afraid.

And I wish there were arms around me and words in my ear, breath on my neck… telling me that everything will be okay, that someone loves me, that I’m not a mistake, not a waste, not a nothing. Telling me that, no, I’m not a child of darkness, and there is a place for me in the light.

I want Carly to tell me.

But if she can’t—if she can’t tell me that and still be with me, then I’ll take the dark. I’ll take the dark gladly—if only she’ll come back to me. If she’ll come back and put me in the back room and take her place in the light.

I’m sorry I ever wanted it.

I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry—




[What follows is indecipherable scribble.]




Twentieth Entry

I feel the Dead House calling to me when I’m awake. It’s been digesting me. Somehow I know this.

Surrender, it says.

I must not go.





54


55 days until the incident




Inpatient Session Recording #68 [Ref: Johnson-Inp-0033]

Thursday, 9 December 2004, 8:03 AM

Claydon Youth Psychiatric Facility, Somerset

Dr. Annabeth Lansing (AL) and Carly Luanne Johnson (CJ)


[Audio crackling]



(AL): Tell me, why won’t you sleep?

[Silence]

Okay, then why do you feel afraid?

[Shuffling]



(CJ): I’m not afraid.



(AL): Why are you angry?



(CJ): I’m sick of all these questions.



(AL): Fair enough. But if you answer the questions, there’ll be fewer of them on repeat, won’t there?



(CJ): Fair enough.



(AL): So tell me, why won’t you sleep?



(CJ): Just—leave—Shit!

[Panting]



(AL): Take a breath for me. Just stay calm.

[Gasps]



(CJ): I WON’T SLEEP!



(AL): Carly, calm down, or I’ll sedate you.



(CJ): Let me go back t-to my r-room! Just—please—let me g-go—



(AL): Okay. Go.

[Crash, running]

[Silence falls]

Dr. Sparrow, as you can hear, Carly Johnson becomes very agitated when sleep is suggested. I’m not sure what to do at this point except to sedate her for an extended period. Any advice would be welcome.

[End of tape]





55



After a lengthy consult with Dr. Sparrow, it was decided that Carly “Kaitlyn” Johnson would be sedated for a twenty-four-hour period. The sedation was filmed on a hospital CCTV camera and has been transcribed below.



CCTV Camera Footage

Monday, 13 December 2004, 9:58 AM

Claydon Youth Psychiatric Facility



Kaitlyn is led into a padded room, no doubt in anticipation of resistance. She seems tired and listless, plopping down in the corner limply when the female health-care assistant leaves. Dr. Lansing and Dr. Sparrow enter the room, along with a larger health-care assistant, who hovers near the door, a mass of height and bulk.

“Now, Carly,” Dr. Sparrow says, coming closer, “I have a small shot here for you. It won’t hurt.”

Kaitlyn’s head snaps up. “What is it?”

“It’ll calm things down.”

Kaitlyn reacts as though shocked by a live wire. She jumps to her feet, pressing herself against the padded wall, and holds out her arms, palms forward.

“Get that away from me,” she gasps.

“It will help you sleep, that’s all.”

“I don’t want to sleep! Stay away from me!”

She looks left, then right, eyes wide and wild, in an attempt to seek an escape. After realizing that she has been backed into a corner, she hesitates, then presses violently off the wall and makes a dash for the door. She slips easily by the elderly Dr. Sparrow, narrowly avoiding a collision with Dr. Lansing, and almost gets past the burly health-care assistant. At the last moment, however, he grabs her around the waist and pulls her back. Her legs lift off the ground, and she kicks out violently.

“NO!” she screams, wrestling the assistant with all her strength. “Please, please!”

He stumbles back into the wall, still holding her against him. She bites down hard on the arm restraining her; the assistant grunts and lets go. She falls to her knees, and then scrambles out of the room.

Ignoring the blood running from his arm, he grabs for her foot, and yanks her back inside, then straddles her, pinning her arms down above her head.

“Calm,” the assistant says, his voice deep and heavily accented. “Calm now.”

Kaitlyn shakes her head violently left and right, the blood from the assistant splattering her cheeks and hair. Her teeth, too, are stained red with his blood.

“Nonononononononono!” Her screams seem endless.

“Oui, Doctor,” the assistant grunts. “I have her steady now. S’okay.”

Dr. Sparrow, paler, bends down and injects Kaitlyn in her left thigh.