The Dead House

She shakes her head again.

“We were in the car, and you and your dad started arguing. You were sitting up front so your mum could hold your dad’s trombone case and keep an eye on Jaime, who was sitting on the other side of her. She kept trying to get you to stop yelling, and I guess he was distracted… We crashed.”

“It was a car crash?”

“Your dad was thrown out, and I broke a fair few ribs and my collarbone. That trombone case saved me. Remember that accident and the reason I lost track of you?”

“You said an accident… I didn’t know it was the accident that…”

“Yeah. Your mum… she got the brunt of the impact. She was in the middle. There was never any chance she’d survive that.”

Kaitlyn swallows. “What did I tell you? You said I told you something that night.”

John hesitates. “Kaitie, please—”

“Tell me, John, so help me God!”

“You’re too fragile for this.”

“Talk about a volte-face. What happened to ‘you’re strong,’ huh? What happened to our pact—always honesty? You liar!” Kaitlyn’s voice breaks, but she keeps yelling in a broken half voice. “You’re like everyone else—you traitor, get away from me!” She tries to shove him, but he is like a big wall in front of her. She laughs, once. “I’m an idiot! I needed you, but I am crazy, after all, for ever trusting you—”

John grabs her, and she pushes away and spins as though to run out the door—but he has her upper arms, and she simply bounces back against his chest. He closes his arms around her, pinning her to him.

“Geddoffme!” she screams, trying to break free. “Let me go!”

“Shh, calm down. It’s okay—shh, Kaitie, shh!”

Sobbing, she kicks his shin, and John stumbles back a pace but keeps hold of her.

With one violent yank, he yells, “Kaitie, stop! You told me—you told me you were glad. You said that right to my face, while they were scraping your dad off the road!”

Kaitlyn stills, but continues to sob garbled words that fall from her lips like drool—among them “liar” and “not true” and “you promised.” Eventually she settles into a kind of half slump in his arms. He maneuvers her to the mattress.

“I’m sorry,” John says, stroking her hair. “I think you need help.”

“I need Carly. I need her. If it’s true… if I really said that I was glad they were dead… then she’s the better one. The best Johnson girl, and she can come back and have this life, and I can disappear. I need this, can’t you understand?”

John doesn’t answer. Instead, he deflects. “Don’t you remember being covered in blood?”

Blood on my hands. There was blood on my hands. [Diary extract: Sunday, 7 November 2004, 7:00 PM]

“No.”

“You got out of the car that night… you stumbled over to where your dad was lying on the road, and you knelt beside him… there was so much of his blood on the road already. You said something to him, and he reached out for you, but you just got up, covered in all that red… and stumbled away.”

“I was probably in shock or something.”

“Except, when the paramedics had me in the ambulance, you told me. You told me it was the best night of your life. You were so… happy.”

“Please, just… get away from me.”

“Kaitlyn, please…”

She retches, then coughs. “You said you would never hurt me. You promised.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Traitor.”

“I don’t want to, but I will if I have to. Because I need to help you. You’re sick.”

Kaitlyn pauses, and then slowly lifts her eyes to stare at him for a full five seconds before they widen in alarm. “You…”

“What? What is it?”

“John… please, just leave me alone.”

“DH—” This time when he grabs her, it is her left forearm, the wounds covered by her long sleeves.

She screams.

“What?”

Hunched over, she manages to whisper, “Leave me alone! I want to be alone.”

“Okay. Fine. I’ll be by in the morning. Please don’t do anything stupid.”

He leaves, at which point Kaitlyn reaches for her journal with shaking fingers.

[END OF CLIP]





Diary of Kaitlyn Johnson


Friday, 28 January 2005

Basement

You bitch. You’ve always known, haven’t you?


I DON’T BELIEVE YOU!!!



Later

I never wanted them dead! What kind of a sick monster would want her own parents to DIE? It’s impossible! How could I ever— It’s a lie! Do you understand me? There’s an explanation for this—I don’t want it to be true! It would break me anew if he… if John…

How can I be sure?

…

No. No, I won’t bring her into this.

NO!

Yes, I know that. But she’s too young. She won’t remember.

I won’t do that to my sister!

Just leave it alone, Dee! Jaime is safe from you! Safe from me!


Leave me alone.



Later

I know you mean well. But I’m doing this. I need to be sure, I can’t just… I can’t just trust. I must be certain.

Yes, I forgive you.

Come here.





97


4 days until the incident