[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.
“Now, Carly,” Dr. Sparrow says, coming closer, “I have a small shot here for you. It won’t hurt.”
Kaitlyn’s head snaps up. “What is it?”
“It’ll calm things down.”
Kaitlyn reacts as though shocked by a live wire. She jumps to her feet, pressing herself against the padded wall, and holds out her arms, palms forward.
“Get that away from me,” she gasps.
“It will help you sleep, that’s all.”
“I don’t want to sleep! Stay away from me!”
She looks left, then right, eyes wide and wild, in an attempt to seek an escape. After realizing that she has been backed into a corner, she hesitates, then presses violently off the wall and makes a dash for the door. She slips easily by the elderly Dr. Sparrow, narrowly avoiding a collision with Dr. Lansing, and almost gets past the burly health-care assistant. At the last moment, however, he grabs her around the waist and pulls her back. Her legs lift off the ground, and she kicks out violently.
“NO!” she screams, wrestling the assistant with all her strength. “Please, please!”
He stumbles back into the wall, still holding her against him. She bites down hard on the arm restraining her; the assistant grunts and lets go. She falls to her knees, and then scrambles out of the room.
Ignoring the blood running from his arm, he grabs for her foot, and yanks her back inside, then straddles her, pinning her arms down above her head.
“Calm,” the assistant says, his voice deep and heavily accented. “Calm now.”
Kaitlyn shakes her head violently left and right, the blood from the assistant splattering her cheeks and hair. Her teeth, too, are stained red with his blood.
“Nonononononononono!” Her screams seem endless.
“Oui, Doctor,” the assistant grunts. “I have her steady now. S’okay.”
Dr. Sparrow, paler, bends down and injects Kaitlyn in her left thigh.
“Don’t! Don’t put me back there!”
She continues to struggle and groan, and eventually falls limp. The health-care assistant gets up and gently pulls down her hospital gown, which had ridden up to her waist.
“Poor little girl,” he says, in a surprisingly gentle voice. “She is calm now. She will sleep.”
Dr. Sparrow and Dr. Lansing—who seems harassed and alarmed—both stare down at Kaitlyn, who does now seem to be very calm indeed.
56
48 days until the incident
Inpatient Therapy Notes
Dr. Annabeth Lansing
Patient File [Johnson-C-0399524], Session #72
Thursday, 16 December 2004
Carly Johnson has been unconscious for fifty-six hours. After the intended twenty-four-hour period, we were unable to wake her. With little other choice, both amantadine and Ritalin were administered, but to no avail; I fear that we may have triggered a new catatonic episode. Carly Johnson seems trapped in unconsciousness. I question my judgment in sedating her now. I am alarmed by her final words before going under, and our inability to wake her. I confess I am at a loss as to my next course of action.
57
The Johnson Claydon Diaries
Twenty-first Entry
What did they do to me? God, Dee. I am lucky to be here. The Dead House descended like music curdling into time; and as it did, I grew wet and cold, and it was dark, and I was so alone…
It had devoured me. Eaten me.
You belong to me. The Voice was ancient as stone and fleeting as the wind, yet familiar and intimate as a caress. It rumbled through the walls and floor, and shook me and stirred me.
I ran for the door, but the corridor changed, stretching on and on; my cries echoed and carried forever. Always the door stood, tiny and hopelessly appealing, at the very end. A speck of hope the house knew I couldn’t stop seeking. I ran for days, weeks, centuries. I died and revived, and still the door stood, waiting.
And then I heard her.
Carly.
She was calling for me. Screaming. She was in agony! The moment I realized it, I was out. Out and awake and coughing up water from my lungs. Only it wasn’t water, it was vomit, and I was choking.
I went to the window, and I stared at myself—and the dead girl—until the sun began to rise over the sill.
“Carly?” I kept calling, waiting for her reflection to show.
Crazy Kaitie, crazy Kaitie.
Those dicks forced me back into the Dead House, and now it has something. It got a bite out of me as I ran, a little shadow of a bite, but it will have a piece of me forever.
58
Inpatient Session Recording #74 [Ref: Johnson-Inp-0033]
Friday, 17 December 2004, 5:17 PM
Claydon Youth Psychiatric Facility, Somerset
Dr. Annabeth Lansing (AL) and Carly Luanne Johnson (CJ)
(AL): So why do you think you’re afraid?
(CJ): You ask me questions that I… that I can’t—
[Breathing]
(AL): Tell me what you want.
(CJ): I want Carly.
(AL): You want more than that. [Pause] Would you like to stop talking?
[Rustling]
(CJ): Yes. No.
(AL): Why don’t you take a breath, sit for a moment, and when you feel like you want to start talking, then talk.
(CJ): About what?
(AL): Whatever’s on your mind.
(CJ): You want to talk about Elmbridge. The roof that night. Why I was up there.
(AL): Why did you go up there?
(CJ): [Loudly] You won’t believe me.
(AL): I believe that you think Carly is gone. I believe you think your Voice is somehow responsible. Aka Manah.
(CJ): Don’t say his name.
(AL): Why not?
(CJ): Just don’t. Everything’s different.
[Heavy breathing]
(AL): Carly? [Sigh] How about we try talking again? Let’s just try. Last session we failed, but maybe this time we’ll succeed.
[Pause]
(CJ): Okay.
(AL): Okay. Tell me the first thing that comes into your mind.
(CJ): The Viking.
(AL): The Viking?
(CJ): He… he was a friend. From… before.
(AL): Excellent! Tell me about him.
(CJ): [Takes breath] The Viking… he used to give me sunflower seeds. [Pause] “You’re a fucking bird,” he’d say, holding them out. “This is bird food.” The first time he did it, I tried to knee him in the nuts. [Laugh] He just picked me up and dumped me on his shoulder, laughing as he carried me away. “A fucking pesky bird, at that. You’re a tiny little falcon hawk, always nipping at something.” He always said that. I was a falcon hawk. It became our thing. My big Viking friend bringing his pesky little falcon some seeds. [Pause] I haven’t had seeds since my parents… died.
(AL): Why did he stop?
[Silence]
Try to articulate that emotion.
(CJ): [Voice low] You know why.
(AL): You blame being admitted into Claydon?
(CJ): He didn’t know where to find me. You never let me say good-bye. You took him away from me—
(AL): Carly… I only began work on your case after you were admitted here. How could I personally be responsible? Hm?
[Pause]
(CJ): [Softly] You’re not responsible. I think… I think maybe I do… need help.
[Pause]
(AL): Carly… this is remarkable progress. Thank you for allowing me back in.
(CJ): I’m tired now.
(AL): Okay. Let’s resume tomorrow. This is wonderful progress. You should feel proud.
[Pause]
(CJ): Then why do I feel like I just murdered Carly?
[End of tape]
Some people say that night blooms.
But night descends self-consciously.
Night cuts slowly.
—Kaitlyn Johnson, Attic Wall
59
A record of the phone call transcript, which Kaitlyn references in the entry below, took five years alone to secure and release. The transcript follows the diary entry.
The Johnson Claydon Diaries
Twenty-second Entry
Presumed to be Tuesday, 21 December 2004
I never expected to hear his voice on the phone. The Viking, after all this time. He said he’d been trying to find out what happened to me—where they took me—for two solid months after the accident, but he was shut down by the police. After I was taken to Claydon again, a small article made it into the local paper. As soon as he spotted Carly’s my name, he was on the phone to Claydon, demanding to speak to me.
Lansing got ahold of him after that, and I think I’m grateful. I don’t know what my mind might do anymore. Lansing said I was catatonic, and so I was. Lansing said I would integrate, and I have. Lansing says I’m fragile, and, well, I did almost jump off a roof…
So she has control of me. Takes care of me.
I can’t be trusted by myself. Because Lansing is right. I do hear Aka Manah still, getting closer and closer, his Voice so soft I can feel his breath. And I feel the Dead House, yearn for it even. That’s not normal, is it, Dee? So I should withdraw, keep away.
But, the Viking… I can’t believe it. He found me.
The first thing he said, after I picked up that gray phone, was “You’re a bird, and I have your seeds.”
Dee, I burst into tears. If I ever had something close to a brother, although more, it would be the Viking. My stupid-ass John, who dresses like some kind of barbarian and towers six feet tall, looking down over my tiny five-five. He made me feel safe—just his voice, over that crackling audio line.
He asked me what I was doing here. I told him about Elmbridge. He made me feel like a part of the world again, Dee.
I cried.
I never cry.
I hate how small I sounded. How already-broken I was. Am. He told me to hang tight, that he was coming soon, and I cling to that, Dee. I cling to the knowledge that he’ll come and see me when his course ends. (He’s at college now, can you believe that??)
My Viking, my brother, after so long.
Transcript of Incoming Telephone Call
Schedules at 4:00 pm, Tuesday, 21 December 2004
Ward A3
John Hutt: DH? Dark Half?
Operator: Please hold the line while I connect you.
John: Okay.
[Connection tone]
Reception: Ward A3.
Operator: Call for Carly Luanne Johnson, authorization Dr. Lansing.
Reception: Connecting.
[Connection tone]
Carly: Hello?
John: You’re a bird, and I have your seeds.
Carly: [Sharp intake of breath] John?
John: What the hell are you doing in a place like that? I saw it in the paper. Have you been there all this time?
Carly: [Soft crying] [Sniff] No—
[Crying]
John: It’s okay, Kaitie. I’m here.
Carly: [Takes breath] I was here for a while, but then they moved me to a school. Elmbridge. It’s in Somerset. I’ve only just come back here. For a little while.
[Pause]
John: Well, I guess it makes sense. You were a bit potty.
Carly: [Laughing] You dick. Where are you? Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you for forever.
John: Back home still. I never left Chester, but we moved house. I was in an accident. It put me in the hospital for a while, which is how I lost track of you. By the time I got out, you were just… gone. No one knew or would tell me anything.
Carly: An accident! Are you okay?
John: Yeah… Yeah, no worries, I’m fine. Just pissed that I lost you for a few broken bones. But I’m hoping I can come see you when college is out.
Carly: You’re in college?
John: Yeah. Engineering.
Carly: [Quietly] You always were good at fixing things.
[Pause]
John: Not always.
[Pause]
Carly: [Softly] Chester is ages away.
John: I’m coming to see you. I am. As soon as I can. I promise.
[Silence]
John: I am coming, DH.
Carly: Yeah.
John: Ever the skeptic. You’ve got to trust someone, right? So trust me.
Carly: [Laughs] You sound like Dr. Lansing now.
John: [Pause] I’m going to have words with that Lapdog woman.
Carly: [Laughs] Lansing, not Lapdog!
John: She’s got a lot to bloody answer for.
Carly: I don’t think you’re allowed to swear on a hospital phone, you know.
John: Well, she said something that pissed me off.
Carly: She’s helping me.
John: Listen, if she were a guy, I’d have broken a rib or two by now.
[Pause]
Carly: What’d she say?
John: She said something that tipped me off to the reason I haven’t been able to find you in so long. You were there. In a bloody mental hospital.
Carly: I… I thought you’d forgotten about me.
John: I would never do that! I told you, remember? Even though—even if—
[Pause]
I have to go. I don’t want you to hear me like this. I might break something. Pro’ly the phone. Or the wall.
Carly: Wait—John…
[Breathing]
John?
John: I’m here.
Carly: So… you didn’t forget me?
John: You’re a riot, Kat. [Pause] You pest.
Carly: [Laugh, sniff] So… you’ll come?
John: Wild trolls couldn’t keep me away.
Carly: [Exhales]
John: Kaitie?
Carly: Hm?
John: Don’t let them break you.
Carly: I… I’m trying.
Operator: Time’s up.
John: Talk to you soon, pest.
Carly: John—
[End of call]
The Johnson Claydon Diaries
Twenty-third Entry
I had a conversation with a viper tonight. He slithered up my legs, around my torso, lingered on my shoulder, forked tongue flicking near my eye as he smelled me.
“Whatttttttttttt are you doing?”
“Are you real?”
“Are yyyyyyou?”
“I am,” I retorted. But then I had this strange sensation that he, with his whispers and scaly armor, was the real one, and I was just a thing wearing a Carly suit.
He seemed to laugh, and as he laughed, he curled himself about my neck three times. “A real girl, tttttttttttalking to a ssssssssnake. Are you ssssssssure you’re real?”
“What do you want?”
I began to shiver, but not from fear, and it repulsed me.
“I’m ttttthhhhhinking of doorrrrrsssssss and windowsssssss,” he told me; his orange eyes, so serpentine and unfathomable, stared right into mine.
“Doors and windows?”
“What, do you ttttttttthhhhink issssssssss behind a pane of glasssssssssssss?”
I felt utter terror at his words.
“Whatttttttt if there’ssssss nottttthhhhhing on ttttthhhhe otttthhhher sssss
ide?”
“There’s always something,” I told him. “There has to be…”
The brille on his eyes began to cloud over. “Notttthhhhhing issssss… ssssssometimesssssss real.”
“Please,” I said, feeling his body around my neck, slowly tightening. And I shivered again, and felt a desperate heat flush my cheeks. “Please stop.”
He turned those milky eyes on me. “Whyyyyy, when you like ittttt sssssssso?”
I gasped and raised my chin, trying to gain some space. “What are you? Are you really a snake?”
He began to shed. “Are yo o o o o u… real l l l l y a girl?”
Am I, Dee?
60
On 22 December 2004, Carly “Kaitlyn” Johnson was allowed to receive a visitor. The visit was recorded on the CCTV camera in the visitor room and has been transcribed below.
The Dead House Page 15