The Dead House, стр. 1

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For the men and women who saved my life

To my husband and Mel (plus all the others!).

You all made miracles.

Prologue

Friday

4 February 2005 THE SOMERSET HERALD

3 DEAD, 1 MISSING IN SCHOOL FIRE Prestigious historic high school becomes scene of horror as flames engulf building.

By DERRECK S. WESTLER

The local community was rocked when firefighters were called to the scene of a major fire at Elmbridge High School on Lord’s Hill Street in Taunton at 1:08 am on Wednesday. The school, which was built in 1908, sustained substantial damage to the female dormitory wing and parts of the main building. Official reports put the number of casualties at three, though no names have been released to the press. It has also been confirmed that one student is missing. Arson has not been ruled out. Detective Chief Inspector Floyd Homes of Avon and Somerset CID, who was investigating a related missing persons case, declined to comment at this time. However, reports of an Elmbridge High student being directly involved in the fire have found their way onto a local website, where Kaitlyn Johnson has been named as a primary suspect. As of yet, no records of a student at Elmbridge High School with this name have been found. The fire burned for much of the night, but with the help of five firefighting crews, the blaze was extinguished before dawn. Elmbridge High School will be closed until further notice, and all students are being temporarily transferred to Taunton School, twenty miles away.

Report Statement

In the early hours of 2 February 2005, a fire at Elmbridge High School in Somerset killed three and injured twenty. For many years, little was revealed about the tragedy. However, rumors flooded the Internet, linking “Kaitlyn” Johnson, “the girl of nowhere,” to the blaze. This was nothing more than wild speculation.

Until now.

Along with a heavily burned “Message Book,” which was used as a method of communication, Kaitlyn Johnson’s diary has been found in the remains of the attic of the Elmbridge building. In it, Kaitlyn reveals the thoughts of a disturbed mind… and a much more sinister version of events than was ever made public.

What follows is a true account of what has become known as the Johnson Incident. Included in this document is a collation of such evidence as has been made available for examination. All Kaitlyn diary entries have been transcribed with type-font for ease of reading.

This witness testifies that the statements herein are accurate as far as can be reasonably ascertained.

Yesternight, upon the stair

I met a girl who wasn’t there.

She wasn’t there again today.

I wish, I wish she’d…

… Carly

This altered Hughes Mearns nonsense poem was found scratched into the attic wall. It is presumed to have been cut into the wood near the end of the Johnson Incident by Kaitlyn herself.

Much of the Elmbridge building remains structurally intact, though it has recently been earmarked for demolition under the Building Act of 1984. The attic, where Kaitlyn spent much of her time and where her diary was found, remains in good condition, as does the rest of the central building. All the female dorms and wings, however, were damaged in the fire. The basement, which was initially a crime scene, then a forensic research area used by the University of Somerset, then a site of investigation into paranormal phenomena, is now condemned.

The prohibition on public access to the property remains in force after twenty years because of recurrent disappearances on the site. Despite this, it continues to attract thrill-seekers and the foolhardy.

Either the Darkness alters—

Or something in the sight

Adjusts itself to Midnight—

And Life steps almost straight.

—Emily Dickinson

She walks in beauty, like the night

Of cloudless climes and starry skies;

And all that’s best of dark and bright

Meet in her aspect and her eyes…

—George Gordon, Lord Byron

I curse anyone who reads this book.

If you touch it, hell will be waiting.

Screw you. Happy reading.

Diary of Kaitlyn Johnson

Sunday, 29 August 2004, 12:24 am

Claydon Mental Hospital, Somerset

I am myself again.

Carly has disappeared into the umbra, and I am alone. Ink on my fingers—she’s been writing in the Message Book.

Good night, sis! she writes. We’ll be back at school soon. I can’t wait!

I wouldn’t have done this diary thing, except Carly thought it was a good idea too. See, Dr. Lansing thinks that getting my thoughts out of my head and onto paper will allow me to be free of them. She gave us both a journal with lock and key, and the instruction to “be honest and whole.” Mine is black (ha ha), and Carly’s is green. I’d like to think mine is black because it’s Lansing’s impression of my nature—solid, unchanging, hidden—but really I think she chose it because black’s not a color.

You see, Diary… Dr. Lansing is convinced I’m not really here.