The Dead House

by Dawn Kurtagich

4. Bipolar

  5. A ghost

  6. A big dog in a little cage

  Which of these seems likely, Dr. Lansing?

  So sick of her. Sick of her ideas. Sick of it all. I am not a symptom! She’s the symptom. She’s sick.

  Sick!

  Sick!

  Sick!

  Sick!

  Sick!

  SICK!

  From: RealxChick

  To: AriHait558

  Date: 19 Sept 2004

  Subject: A Disgrace to My Gender

  So I finally caved and emailed you. What a crappy night so far.

  Grumpy.

  From: AriHait558

  To: RealxChick

  Date: 19 Sept 2004

  Subject: Re: A Disgrace to My Gender

  It never ceases to amaze me the rules girls put on their lives.

  I saw you near the art block the other day, and you looked right through me. Hence my silence. I suppose I’m a little too weird to acknowledge during school? Maybe your friends will disown you if they find out you’re secretly befriending the weird guy in the bowler hat.

  A.

  [There is no reply from Kaitlyn on the server.]

  Diary of Kaitlyn Johnson

  Sunday, 19 September 2004, 10:00 pm

  Basement

  You have dark hair. (I’ve always wanted dark hair.) Your eyes will be brown, a color that holds secrets well. Isn’t that fitting? You’re tall, because I’m not. You have three tattoos—an asp on your left wrist, a sparrow on your right ankle, and a dagger on your thigh. You have plump lips that are for kissing, not talking, and your eyes sparkle with inner light. You like to listen.

  What do you think, Dee? Have I described you accurately? Do you need a more distinctive feature to tell you apart from the rabble of the world? How about this: You have one brown eye and one green eye. You take in through the green and cage with the brown. You have a nose stud too, and you always wear black.

  Welcome to my head, Dee. Please, look around.

  I’m in the bowels of the main building, exploring the basement. It’s so cold.

  I swear, Dee, this place is as big as the entire main building. Chairs, tables, boxes, uniforms, equipment, netting, the old (and new) hall curtains, mannequins, old mattresses from the boardinghouse, skeletal teaching props—you name it. Not only did I reach a point where I thought I’d never find an exit, but I also lost track of the window that gave me entry. Just my luck, being trapped down there with useless things. Maybe, I thought, I’ll die down here. It got me thinking about whether I’m a prop in Carly’s life, or she’s one in mine.

  There’s another room down there, Dee. Totally cut off from everything else. A tiny little box of a room with its own staircase—grimy and moist—up to a secret servants’ corridor that leads between walls and out into the kitchen. This room is the only part of this building not cluttered with stuff. The only thing in there is a big Victorian cupboard—an armoire. It gave me the chills. Even though it’s just an empty room, it felt as if someone was in there with me. Maybe more than one person. At any rate, I felt watched.

  Lame, I know.

  Because, Dee, I’m the thing in the dark, just like the Viking used to tell me. I’m the creature coming up from the basement, the thing under the bed. I have nothing to fear in the dark. I am the dark.

  I am afraid.

  [A piece of paper, upon which Kaitlyn scrawled a hurried diary entry, was slipped into the back of the journal. It is dated 20 September, 4:00 AM.]

  Ari came to the main building looking for me. He said that when I didn’t answer his email and didn’t come to the chapel, he got worried (contrived much?). He saw me from the top of the hill, heading there. By the time he got there, I was already climbing out through the broken window.

  “So this is where you sneak off to,” he said, grinning from ear to ear.

  I glanced back at the building, feeling oddly protective. “Sometimes.”

  “Fancy a swim?”

  Dee, I had forgotten! I’d forgotten how badly I wanted to visit the swimming pool, having been so preoccupied with the attic. He grinned and nodded towards the building, and honestly, I just gave in! I showed him the window I’ve broken, and we climbed inside. We didn’t linger long—instead, we ran up the stairs, and along the main corridor, past the billiard room, gallery, and main foyer, into the pool room, where we stripped down to our underwear and slipped in.

  It was beautiful—and warm! So warm. We had to be quiet, since Coach O’Grady and Mrs. Mayle both have their apartments in this main building round the back, but it was the most fun I’ve had in years.

  I thought, for a moment, Ari might try to kiss me, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about that, but then he didn’t, and we just giggled and raced quietly in the pool. I’m going to keep this to myself, Dee. I’m going to keep Ari to myself.

  I’m glad he didn’t kiss me.

  I’m glad I’m still untouched.

  13

  131 days until the incident

  Session #46 Audio

  Dr. Annabeth Lansing (AL) and Carly “Kaitlyn” Johnson (CJ)

  Friday, 24 September 2004, 7:57 PM

  (AL): Am I speaking with Carly? Or Kaitlyn?

  (CJ): Aren’t you supposed to be able to tell?

  (AL): Hello, Kaitlyn.

  (CJ): It’s Carly.

  (AL): It’s better if you’re completely honest. You know that.

  [Pause]

  (CJ): Dr. Lansing, it’s Carly.

  (AL): This is excellent. I didn’t see you last session.

  (CJ): No. Kaitlyn?

  (AL): She was concerned about not being able to see Jaime.

  (CJ): I was wondering about that. About the delay.

  (AL): A visit was arranged. I’m assuming Kaitlyn was around, not you.

  (CJ): No… I was there. I meant I was wondering before the visit.

  (AL): Tell me about the visit. How did it go?

  (CJ): Jaime’s… different. I don’t want to talk about it.

  (AL): I heard from Meredith Bailey. She tells me that Jaime was disturbed by a smell in your room.

  (CJ): I don’t want to talk about it.

  (AL): Carly, you need to tell me if Kaitlyn is smoking marijuana again.

  (CJ): I would have told you.

  (AL): It might not be very obvious.

  (CJ): I lived with Kaitlyn for a long time. I know what weed smells like. There’s none.

  (AL): Jaime also complained, apparently, of a strange feeling. Do you know anything about that?

  (CJ): She doesn’t recognize me anymore. You keep her away from me and then wonder why she doesn’t feel comfortable? You want this—you want her to forget me.

  (AL): Carly, I want no such thing. You know why she doesn’t come to see you.

  (CJ): No, I don’t! Why, because they call me crazy? Because you think I have multiple personalities?

  (AL): You know that’s not the only reason.

  (CJ): You keep saying I know what happened the day my parents died! I don’t! So why don’t you just stop with the theatrics and tell me!

  (AL): [Sigh] Carly, you have that information inside you. You will remember exactly what happened when your mind can cope with it.

  (CJ): So I was there. Actually there, not just informed afterwards?

  [Pause]

  I was there. I was, wasn’t I?

  (AL): Give the details time. You aren’t ready for the information yet. If you were, you’d have it.

  (CJ): And in the meantime, Jaime grows up and forgets me.

  (AL): She’ll never forget you.

  [Pause]

  (CJ): I’m not so sure.

  [Rustling paper]

  (AL): How about school this year? Do you feel more positive about it?

  (CJ): There are new students.

  (AL): And that makes you uncomfortable?

  (CJ): [Pause] I… I don’t know.

  (AL): New faces, new names, new smells. Does it make you happy? Glad
for the change?

  (CJ): No. I… I want things to be the same as last year.

  (AL): Of course you do. No one likes change that’s unexpected. Not unless you’re a destructive alter, like Kaitlyn. Do you get messages from Kaitlyn anymore?

  (CJ): Sometimes.

  (AL): Thank you for being honest with me, Carly. I can see that you certainly look well and that the summer hasn’t brought back old behaviors. Apart from an appearance from Kaitlyn last week, which is to be expected, you’ve been doing well.

  [Silence]

  I wonder, though, if you’re being completely honest. I know that you’re intimidated by Kaitlyn, and that she’s controlling. But this is a safe space. You can tell me if there is anything wrong.

  [Pause]

  (CJ): Nothing’s wrong.

  (AL): You’ve been wearing your school uniform to our sessions. Why?

  (CJ): I don’t have time to change.

  (AL): And it has nothing to do with the uniform having long sleeves?

  (CJ): No.

  (AL): You’re feeling good, then? Nothing bad from Kaitlyn? No cuts, bruises? Nothing hurting? Have you checked your body, Carly? Your… [Pause] I know it’s difficult, but Kaitlyn may be taking control without you knowing it and doing things—

  [Loud slamming noise]

  (CJ): No!

  [Silence]

  (AL): Well, Kaitlyn. Out again. You sound defensive.

  [Heavy breathing]

  (CJ): Screw you, Lansing. I’d never hurt Carly.

  (AL): Luckily for Carly, it seems you can’t hurt her anymore. She was just here, after sundown. Does that surprise you? That she can exist in the darkness, just as you can?

  (CJ): You’re a piece of work, Doctor. Carly is everything that the day is supposed to be. And I don’t appreciate you hinting at me hurting her.

  (AL): You hurt yourself.

  (CJ): That’s different.

  (AL): How? You said yourself—you share a body. What you suffer is what you inflict on her, correct?

  [Silence]

  Despite your sudden appearance, Carly’s doing well. You’re slowly integrating, Kaitlyn. You shouldn’t be afraid of that. One day you’ll function as a harmonious whole—you’ll be a part of Carly, both of you together.

  (CJ): You mean I’ll be gone. Buried by her mind.

  (AL): I’m afraid it’s the way it’s supposed to be. You won’t vanish, as such. But you’ll be reabsorbed. You came out at a time of profound stress. You’re a coping mechanism. But Carly is the true self, and your job is done. You’ve protected her so well, dear, you have. You’ve kept that awful darkness of the nighttime away—and the memories. You’ve carried the burden for her, but now she’s strong enough to take it back. She needs to take it back.

  (CJ): You’ve got no clue what you’re talking about.

  (AL): Carly, come out.

  (CJ): You think you know everything.

  (AL): [Loudly] Carly, come out!

  [Sigh]

  [Pause]

  (CJ): I… I’m—what was I saying?

  (AL): We were talking about Kaitlyn being put away for good. I think you’re doing remarkably well.

  (CJ): Oh. Can I stop the medicine? Just a little bit? I haven’t done anything reckless in so long—I haven’t lost much time at all.

  [Scratching of pen on paper]

  (AL): In time, Carly. Soon. I’d like to see you again in, let’s say… Thursday. Yes, the thirtieth, at five PM. Come straight after school.

  (CJ): I have choir then. Could I come after?

  (AL): Okay. [Pause] I have a meeting at… let’s make it six thirty.

  (CJ): All right. Thank you Dr. Lansing. For everything.

  (AL): You’ve worked hard. A little more work, Carly, and you’ll feel better.

  [End of tape]

  Diary of Kaitlyn Johnson

  Friday, 24 September 2004, 9:35 pm

  Dorm

  I AM NOT A SICKNESS!

  I have to get out of this room—these four walls. All I see is shadow on white paint, bleeding into vomit gray when you look hard enough. All I see is by halves, and I feel the Voice in my ear, whispering, laughing, telling me the time is coming.

  Soon, he tells me. Soon.

  I have to get out of here.

  11:00 pm

  I have this horrible feeling tonight. Like—I don’t know. Like, maybe I’m starting to remember something. Just the hint of something—a hunch I can’t shake. My mind was wandering, and I saw my mother, in my memory, sitting on the bed. She was wearing a blue polo-necked dress and that thick black belt. She leaned forward and said, “Isn’t it funny how memories are just colors, shades, and impressions?”

  She leaned back, and then she wasn’t Mum anymore, she was Dr. Lansing, and she was shaking her head. “Not funny at all, really. Is it?”

  I don’t think our parents died in an accident like Lansing says.

  Did they die… on purpose?

  14

  A police incident report was filed on 25 September 2004. Part of the report detailed the damage to a dorm in the Juniper House.

  Berkley, Somerset

  Incident Report.

  25 September 2004

  OFFICER REPORTING: Community Officer Seamus Rompton

  DETAIL OF INCIDENT: Door to one of the dorms in Juniper wing of Elmbridge High removed and hidden (as yet missing). Mirror in the bathroom of Juniper House smashed on the floor. No sign of a weapon, and no item in the bathroom heavy or sturdy enough to inflict damage of this nature. A sixth-form student, Mike Bowers, suffered several superficial lacerations to his face, torso, and thighs. He has been removed to a local hospital for treatment and recalls nothing of how he was wounded. A brief search of the boys’ wing revealed nothing untoward; however, it is noted that none of the windowpanes or doors have a locking mechanism in the student wings, and anyone might have had access. Incident resembles a student prank and will be treated as such.

  Naida Camera Footage

  Sunday, 26 September 2004

  Time Index Not Noted

  Common Room

  “You heard?” Naida says, putting the camera down on the common room coffee table. She sits beside Carly, who stares out the window, the back of her thumb pressed to her lips. She looks pale.

  “Carly,” Naida presses. “Did you hear? About Mike?”

  “Hm?”

  “Did you hear about Mike’s room?”

  Carly ignores Naida’s question and turns to gaze out the window again. “Do you hear that?”

  “Hear what?”

  “You don’t hear it? It’s—shh! Listen… like someone whispering.”

  Naida frowns, her eyes darting as her ears search for the sound. The girls sit still for a moment, until Carly gasps and grabs Naida’s arm.

  “There! You heard that, right?”

  “Carly, there’s nothing.”

  Carly swallows, glancing down at her legs. “It sounds so sad.”

  “Sugar, you’re scaring me.”

  Carly exhales and, with a wistful glance out the window, turns back to Naida.

  “What were you saying about Mike?”

  “Someone took his door clean off its hinges and hid it somewhere. And someone smashed the mirror in the Juniper House bathroom.” Naida laughs. “They can’t find the door anywhere. Not to mention that he woke up covered in tiny little cuts. Couldn’t have picked a more perfect target, if you ask me. Mike’s an A-hole.”

  “Oh. Hm.”

  “What’s wrong? You’ve been acting so weird lately. Always zoning out, always tired, or else fidgeting and worried. I feel like you aren’t even here sometimes. Where are you?”

  “I think I’m getting sick. Or maybe it’s these new meds. Dr. Lansing says they’ll help me feel better once I get used to them.” There is tightness in her lips and jaws as she speaks.

  The light in the room changes, dimming subtly, which registers noticeably on the camera. The time index is not given, but it can be assumed it
is late afternoon, or early evening. Both girls are still wearing their Elmbridge uniforms.

  Naida folds her arms. “And you trust this doctor woman? Kaitie seems skeptical.”

  Carly frowns and scratches at her arm. “You speak to Kait?”

  “When she lets me. Which isn’t often.”

  “Yeah,” Carly says slowly. “I do trust Dr. Lansing. She’s trying to help me.”

  “Help with what?”

  “Help me to remember the accident. What happened. I don’t know. And I need to believe that… I just need her.”

  “And Kaitlyn? She wants to put Kaitlyn away, right?”