The Dead House

I think I was in shock. Mostly. You just dropped this mention of a random guy, and you made it sound like you’d known him forever. How long have you known him? Does he know about us? The truth? Are you, like, dating him? That’s totally fine, but if you’re going to… you know… um, could you give me a bit of warning? You know I hate surprises, and that would be a big one. How is this going to work? I wish I could talk to you. I feel nervous. Do you love him? How will that work? It’s kind of… weird. What if he doesn’t like me?




Kaitlyn to Carly, 23 July 2002



He’s just a friend. I promise. My only friend, apart from you. You said I should meet people. I wasn’t going to do anything. I would never do anything like that, Carly. Don’t be nervous. He’s just a friend. Barely even that. You are the most important thing to me, okay? That will never change.





72


30 days until the incident




Diary of Kaitlyn Johnson


Monday, 3 January 2005, 2:12 am

Forgotten Garden

I’ve been sitting here for twenty minutes, trying to figure out how to write it down.

I never intended it to happen—I never meant to take this from Carly. DAMNIT. Does smacking my face into the wall make it better? No, because it’s Carly’s face. Carly’s hands and her legs, her heart. Her virginity too. I had no right. But I did it anyway.

She asked me to tell her if I ever—when I decided—if there was a chance— She wanted warning.

How many times can I say I’m sorry, Dee? I’m sorry—I’m so sorry! But I’m happy—I’m happy, and I’m sorry, and I hate this so much!


I took Ari to the Forgotten Garden—on top of the old crypt, so sad and broken. I wanted to show him me, which is what the graveyard is. The remnant of something, like the husk of some exotic fruit once the bird has had its fill. The shadow on the wall of the flickering object.

Don’t look at me like that, Dee. Because you have no idea what I’m going through. Ari was… Ari is… the only thing I have. Now. The kiss was just as sweet, especially outside in the dark with the wind tickling our faces and the moisture in the air gifting tiny droplets on our skin, like uncanny tears. It was cold, which is so familiar, so safe. Like an old friend, Dee… you can understand that.

When his hands fell from my hair to run down my back and take in my thighs and then frantically up to my breasts—I was on fire. I crossed a line I never let myself cross when I haunted the streets of Chester. I don’t know why. Maybe because I could. Maybe because I had no choice—I was compelled. My dark nature brought me to it. I needed it.

Do you remember? That the thing I long for the most is breath on my neck, arms wrapped around me, telling me I’m wanted. Needed. Do you?

Ari knows me now, more than anyone. He’s seen the darkest side of me and he’s been me. And he’s not afraid. It was inevitable as soon as his lips fell on mine again, his hands on me—our bodies urging us forward like an unstoppable tide. Sure, it was sore, and I don’t know if you could call it “making love.” It was more like “falling alive.”

Ari and I had sex tonight.

Sex. God, I wrote it. Sex.

Thanks to me, Carly is no longer a virgin. I have a confession, Dee, and it’s so vile and disgusting that I’m retching as I write it. I think, in some subconscious and demeaning part of me, I was hoping that this would hurt her enough to make her come back. That she would be so repulsed and appalled and angry by what I had done to her that she would just tear her way back into our body, and I would suddenly, painfully, be complete.

Dee, I feel like I just raped Carly. I know—it’s stupid. But I feel like that. She didn’t give me her consent. I don’t know…

I’ve never felt more alive than I did in his arms. It was such an amazing thing… more wonderful than anything else I’ve ever experienced. And that just makes me feel even worse!

I can’t stop feeling Ari all over me. His lips on mine, his hands in my hair, his breath—harsh and full of passion—on my neck. The feeling of the stone crypt under my back, hard and moist and cold, like the Dead House, which I felt descending all around us.



From: RealxChick To: AriHait558

Date: 3 January 2005

Subject: The Prisoner Finds Ink and Parchment



Naida supplied the caged bird with a little window. What do you think of it?

Confessional Girl





From: AriHait558

To: RealxChick

Date: 3 January 2005

Subject: Re: The Prisoner Finds Ink and Parchment



I am beyond ecstatic that Rapunzel has found her window. That the muse has been released. I am nothing without you, Caged Beauty.





From: RealxChick

To: AriHait558

Date: 3 January 2005

Subject: Our Secret



I can’t stop thinking about… our secret. Did that really happen only a few hours ago? Did I dream it? I don’t know what’s real anymore.

Confused, alone, needing you.





From: AriHait558

To: RealxChick