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(FH): Do you know where Juliet McClarin is?

(SF): No.

(FH): Any ideas about who might want to hurt her?

(SF): [Laughs] Seriously? She was the year below me, mate. I barely paid attention.

(FH): Do you have a girlfriend?

(SF): Yeah, I do, so why would I look at Juliet?

(FH): So you only have eyes for your girlfriend?

(SF): Bloody hell, yeah. Sorry. Look, mate, Naida’s my girl. I’m no playboy, right? Nothing to it but that.

(FH): Naida. [Pause] Naida Chounan-Dupre?

(SF): Yeah, that’s right.

(FH): And you’d do anything to protect her?

(SF): Of course I would.

(FH): Even lie to protect her. [Pause] Even if it would hurt someone innocent?

(SF): What are you talking about?

(FH): Even if a life could be in danger?

(SF): Seriously, mate, I don’t know what you mean.

(FH): Juliet has been missing for almost two months now. It seems highly likely that Carly Johnson was the last person to see her. Juliet stepped outside before the Ouija board incident, and shortly after that, Carly went outside. Witnesses state that they heard a scream, but none have been able to identify that scream as either Carly’s or Juliet’s for certain. It was several moments before others joined Carly outside. We don’t know what happened in the interim.

(SF): What does that have to do with Naida?

(FH): Do you know where Juliet is?

(SF): This is mental. No, I don’t know where she is. You should, though. Besides, I still don’t see what any of this has to do with Naida.

(FH): Scott, I need you to be honest with me.

[Pause]

(SF): Okay…

(FH): Is Naida Chounan-Dupre hiding Carly Johnson?

[End of tape]

33 91 days until the incident

Diary of Kaitlyn Johnson

Wednesday, 3 November 2004, 11:00 pm

The Anniversary of the Accident

Attic

We both know what today is, so I guess I’m not surprised that Carly didn’t leave a note. I should just come out and ask her, but… what if it’s true, and Lansing’s right? What if I cause irreparable harm by forcing her to talk to me?

No. It’s a trick. Another damn trick.

I felt stupid, but I did it all the same. Walked up to the old chapel, went inside, and lit two votive candles. Mum. Dad. Ari wasn’t there. I don’t know where he is. I don’t know what to say. I closed my eyes, as you’re meant to do, and I thought of them… tried to think of them. I don’t really remember what they looked like. Lansing keeps their photographs away from me. Trauma Lies.

She (you?) were standing in the solitary votive area. She (you?) were watching me from the darkness.

She (you?) were grinning.

I wish I could go to sleep.

34 88 days until the incident

Naida Camera Footage

Saturday, 6 November 2004, 6:53 PM

Naida’s Dorm Room

The Dead House - _17.jpg

The screen is dim. We can barely make out Naida’s face.

“Idiot Mike,” Naida says, her voice low, breath heavy. “He doesn’t have even the tiniest clue what he’s done.” She pauses, hesitates, then clenches her jaw. “Or maybe he does.”

She pulls the camera away from her face, and we can see her more clearly. Her eyes are shadowed with fatigue and sleepless nights.

“The significance of the vandalism on his room… the missing door, the mirror… it’s not lost on me. I think he’s tampering with things he should leave well alone. I think he’s messing with black magic. And that he found the Olen board?” She closes her eyes. “And then there’s this.”

The camera pans over to Naida’s hand, in which sits a melted piece of dark plastic that she turns between her slim fingers.

“It’s the pointer. From my party. The one that found Kaitie… and Carly. I found it on my desk.”

She pans back to herself. “Shit. I have to see for myself. I have to know.”

[END OF CLIP]

35

Naida Camera Footage

Saturday, 6 November 2004, 7:07 AM

Kaitlyn’s Dorm Room

The Dead House - _18.jpg

“What do you want?” Kaitlyn asks. She seems tense, her eyes darting past Naida into the corridor as though waiting for someone. “You know she’s not here yet.” She checks her watch. “Not for another three minutes.”

“Did you put this in my room?”

Kaitlyn frowns down at Naida’s hand and the hunk of plastic. “What is it?”

“You’re for real? You didn’t put it in my room to be funny?”

“I don’t go into your room.”

There seems to be strong meaning behind those words, made more so by Naida’s pointed silence.

Eventually Kaitlyn rolls her eyes and takes the plastic from Naida’s hands. Immediately she freezes, her neck muscles distend, and her mouth opens as though she’s in agony.

The camera dips and then rights itself. “Kaitlyn—”

Kaitlyn’s eyes scrunch up, and she bends over and screams, her hand balled into a fist around the plastic. Naida grabs her hand and rips the pointer free. Kaitlyn’s cries cease.

“What,” she gasps. “What did you—”

A door bangs open. “What the hell, Chounan?” Brenda’s angry voice is heard from afar. “Keep it down!” The door slams shut.

Naida turns back to Kaitlyn, lifting the camera. “Now, can you please explain—”

Kaitlyn’s eyes roll back, and she collapses in the doorway.

“Damn it.”

[END OF CLIP]

For many years, it was not known what exactly happened to make Kaitlyn scream so violently. However, nine years before the journal was found, a scrap of paper was discovered under the cushions of a sofa in the attic when safety renovations took place. It is written in Kaitlyn’s hand and dated 7 November.

Diary of Kaitlyn Johnson

Sunday, 7 November 2004, 7:00 pm

Dorm

Blood on my hands. There was blood on my hands.

And that sound, all around me, that terrible laughter—that derision! I could feel the amused malice behind that Voice, and I felt the breath down my back, and I could feel, I swear I could feel, a hand running down my shirt, touching me—urging me—

What the hell is happening to me, Dee?

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