The Dead House - Dawn Kurtagich Page 0,54
down in the dark.
Crrrrrrrrreeeeeeeeaaaaaaak.
“Carly?”
The sound continued, inching closer to me out of the darkness.
“Carly, tell me that’s you.”
Sssssshhhrrrkk.
I felt the grin in that umbra. Something wasn’t right. I turned, and I ran down the stairs, but they were endless, and the dark shadows behind me never seemed to recede, no matter how fast I ran.
Finally, because I knew it was a dream and because the thing in the dark was so very close, I launched myself over the railing. I fell for a long time, but I don’t remember landing. Only that all of a sudden I was in the doorway and the house was screaming, foul breath forcing me backwards—tearing me away.
I clung to the doorframe, needing to stay, needing to go into the basement—the only place left hidden—needing to find her.
GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!
I flew out the door, past the crumbling mountainside, towards the mists, which roared up to meet me.
I woke up on the floor, sticky with my own sweat, the echoes of the voice of the house ringing in my ears. Even now I can hear it—Get out of my house. Get out of my house. It doesn’t want me snooping.
My Voice is nearby, Dee. He laughs, and he sings: The house is mine. The house is mine.
I really am crazy, aren’t I?
The devil’s in the details.
63
41 days until the incident
Inpatient Session Recording #78 [Ref: Johnson-Inp-0033]
Thursday, 23 December 2004, 3:14 PM
Claydon Youth Psychiatric Facility, Somerset
Dr. Annabeth Lansing (AL) and Carly Luanne Johnson (CJ)
(AL): I want to address what you spoke about at the end of our session last Friday. You said you felt like you had murdered Carly. Why?
(CJ): I’m not sure how I feel anymore. I thought… I thought I felt like that because by—by accepting your help… I accept that she’s gone. And that was hard for me.
(AL): And do you accept it?
(CJ): I… don’t know.
(AL): To have any hope of recovery, you must accept it. The first step is accepting that you are Carly. You are Carly Luanne Johnson. So let’s try to say it. Say it with me… I am Carly. You can do it. [Pause] Please try.
(CJ): I…
(AL): You can do it.
[Sharp intake of breath]
What is it, Carly? What’s happened?
[Shuffling]
Vocalize, Carly. Come on.
[Heavy breathing]
(CJ): I… I suddenly, um, realized that this will be my first Christmas without her. It was alarming for a moment… to think it. But… I—I’m better now.
(AL): Carly, what is it?
[Pause]
(CJ): I am Carly.
(AL): Excellent! Again.
(CJ): I am Carly.
(AL): [Laughs] No need to cry, Carly. This is wonderful work, and I am so proud of you! Now, again.
(CJ): [Crying] I am Carly.
(AL): Again.
(CJ): I… am… Carly. [Sobbing]
(AL): This is excellent, Carly. You’re doing well. Now, I’m going to give you an assignment. I’d like you to write down everything you can remember about the night your parents died. Not what I told you, but what you yourself remember. Then I’d like you to attend the Friday group session and read it aloud to everyone.
(CJ): Okay.
(AL): You’re very brave. I’m so pleased with your progress, Carly. Maybe, if you keep it up, you can return to Elmbridge by the New Year.
[Chair scrapes]
(CJ): Thank you.
[End of tape]
64
The following outgoing phone call was recorded on 23 December 2004, 41 days before the incident:
[Three rings]
[Muffled noises] “Who is this? [Sigh] You know what time it is, dickface?”
[Heavy breathing] “Naida! Naida, it’s Kait!”
“Kaitie—you called. Thank God.”
“You were right—I have to get out of here.”
“What happened?”
“I was in a session today, and I saw something—I don’t know—something wrong with her face. She isn’t who she says she is!”
[Silence]
“Kaitie, are you alone?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Hang up.”
“But why? What is it?”
“I can hear someone breathing on the line.”
[Click]
[Line dead]
No one thinks of how much blood it costs.
—Dante Alighieri
A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door,
And a word that shall echo forevermore!
—Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
God hath given you one face, and you make yourselves another.
—William Shakespeare
65
135 days after the incident
Criminal Investigation Department, Portishead Headquarters
Avon and Somerset Constabulary, Portishead, Bristol
Friday, 17 June 2005, 15:34 PM
AUDIO INTERVIEW #2, PART 2: Detective Chief Inspector Floyd Homes (FH) and Scott Fromley (SF)
(FH): And that’s all, huh? You’re telling me that’s all you know about what happened to Juliet?
(SF): Yes.
(FH): I see. And what about the night of the fire? Do you also know nothing of that?
(SF): I can’t remember exactly. I don’t know!
(FH): Several people are dead, two are missing, and one is permanently crippled… and you don’t know?
(SF): I wasn’t there at the end—I never saw anything. All I