The Dead House, стр. 34

So… maybe…

Maybe I am crazy broken. Maybe I do need help fixing.

Oh, Dee. Maybe Lansing is right.

Eighteenth Entry

Don’t look at me like that, Dee. Especially when you’ve failed that girl in the reflection. See! She’s still reaching!

Inpatient Session Recording #65 [Ref: Johnson-Inp-0033]

Monday, 6 December 2004, 4:15 PM

Claydon Youth Psychiatric Facility, Somerset

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

(CJ): I want to talk to Jaime.

(AL): Why?

(CJ): I need to explain to her… what’s going on.

(AL): I don’t think that’s a good idea, Carly.

(CJ): You have to let me see her. Or just talk to her—a phone call. That’s all.

(AL): I can’t do that, Carly. Not after her last visit. You saw the tape.

(CJ): Exactly! You showed me what I did—I need her to—[Swallow] I need her to understand.

(AL): Carly, Mr. and Mrs. Bailey have filed a restraining order against you. It’s being considered. Until we know the outcome, I can’t allow you to contact her.

(CJ): But… but I… I was sick. You said I was sick, right? And… I’m a minor. Can—can they really do that?

(AL): They’re her guardians now. But… no, I don’t believe they will get the order, so take a breath. Calm. But while it’s not been decided, you can’t speak to her.

(CJ): [Muffled sounds] [Quietly] Kill me. God, please just kill me.

[End of tape]

53

The Johnson Claydon Diaries

Nineteenth Entry

I’ve learned, in my tragic little life, that memories are like water. Not solid, like some people think. Once something happens, it isn’t set in stone. It can change.

You can make yourself believe anything if you lie to yourself long enough.

I’m good at lying to myself. I’m good at it because I have to be. If I believed the life I was in half the time, I would have jumped off that roof and taken Carly with me a long time ago. My biggest secret, Dee, is so pathetic that I can barely bring myself to write it. But I must.

Write it, you coward!

I am afraid of the dark.

No, not just tense. Not just tense at all, Dee. I am was am a child of night—I even need it… and I am petrified of it. Some kind of joke, right? But it’s true. And more than I’m afraid of the dark, I fear the light (ha ha). I fear the sun, and I fear the exposure. So, really, I’m not fit for life. One or the other, kid. And if I face that truth for too long, Dee, it’ll break me. So I have to lie to myself to survive.

But lying is a habit, and it’s addictive. You lie. It breeds. You lie again. It grows. And one day you wake up and realize that everyone around you has this weird idea about who you are, and you don’t recognize the person they’re describing. You don’t understand why they’re treating you the way they do.

Or not treating you.

It’s like you have a cancer.

I’ve pushed everyone away. Even Carly. I live behind a veneer of Teflon that I worked hard to grow and then to maintain. I could blame it on the accident murder accident death fact that our parents left us, left me, but it would be unfair. Because the truth is… I was like this before they died. I pushed them away too, and now nothing I do will ever change that.

They saw a drunk, when I was broken.

They saw sarcasm, when I was sobbing.

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.