Father Peter Kemp (father_peter) wrote,
Father Peter Kemp

From 1993 to 2005

November 23rd, 1993

Brother Thomas got a phone call today. It was someone from our own parish needing our help. The family is very devout, and they took in a Russian girl by the name of Svetlana Kavenskaya several years ago. They said that recently she's been showing severe fits of anger and speaking in tongues. Thomas said it could be like the girl we saw in Ireland that had memorised The Exorcist and decided that she too was possessed by the devil, but I am not so sure. The family said that she completely destroyed their sitting room. This sounds different. This sounds new.

Could it be a real case of spirit possession? I've never seen an actual case of it before. I only hope we can help the girl. God be with us.

November 27th, 1993

Thomas met with the Robson family today about Svetlana. They want us to go out to their house to see her. They say she's getting worse. Thomas made me listen to a tape the family had made of her speaking. She was only speaking latin, though she was speaking the classical form of it, not the mediaeval form of it. They didn't recognise it. I looked into her background and she did take latin at school. She's not mysteriously speaking in tongues at all.

But she was saying, "Diablos absconditus" The Devil that is hidden from the man. And that soon was "Dies Irae" Day of Wrath. Judgement Day.

Now I am not sure what to think. It will all become clear when we see her on the 1st. Thomas is quite excited about this, which worries me. He does get carried away sometimes, which is why he says he needs me along. I am his 'tether'. Which I think is just a nice way of saying I am no fun. That's all right, someone needs to keep his head in all this. It might as well be me.

December 2nd, 1993

Thomas is dead. And it is my

December 4th, 1993

It is my fault. Why didn't I stop him?

December 5th, 1993

There's going to be an inquisition into Thomas's death. Because our monastary was open to the idea of the supernatural, Thomas and I were allowed to do what we did. But the Catholic Church as a whole is not open to it. The monastary doesn't want to get into trouble. They're saying that Thomas and I acted alone. We performed an unsanctioned exorcism which resulted in Thomas's death, and the disappearence of the girl, who they are considering another victim of all this. I am going to be held responsible in front of everyone.

They don't know. They didn't see her eyes.

They didn't hear it. They didn't hear her snap his neck. They didn't feel her fling them across the room like they were nothing. Lighter than air. She held him up. She taunted him.

I can't do this.

I can't do this anymore.

December 6th, 1993

God is dead. He was never here. We're all alone with whatever She was. Whatever killed Thomas. It's us and that.

I would say 'God help us all' but no help will arrive. No one will be the knight in shining armour. There is no Heavenly Battle and no chorus of angels will sing praises as we ascend.

There's nothing.

Kill me

December 7th, 1993

We're fucked.

December 8th, 1993

Inquisition today. I am supposed to accept the blame. I'll be given a warning. Some punishment. Punishment for no crime.

I have lost my brother, my best friend. Isn't that punishment enough? I know it's my fault. But they don't know why. I could have stopped him, but I didn't. So much for being a tether.

And I have lost my god. I feel abandoned and betrayed. What could their punishment possibly do that is worse than this?

Later: I did it. I stood in front of people I know and people I don't, and I accepted the blame for Thomas's death and Svetlana's disappearence. I have done my duty by my brothers.

And now I am leaving. I can't stand it here anymore. I means nothing.

Everything means nothing and it always will.

December 10th, 1993

I am in London. I serve no purpose. No god. I serve no one. I wish only to die. I wish I had instead of him. He was the stronger one. He would have known what to do. He wouldn't have gotten ME killed if the situation were reversed.

But then again, that doesn't make any sense, does it?

Nothing makes sense. I spent years learning lies and now I find they're all I know. The real world is too big and far too scary.

And they're still out there. She's still out there. And part of me hopes that I find her or she finds me so she can finish her job.

December 11th, 1993

I have no purpose. No reason to be. I read the papers and there is so much pain in the world and no one to help. Why doesn't someone do something? Anything?

I can't. I wouldn't know where to start.

And so I won't. I give up on it. I give up on everything. I would say the world will go straight to hell, but knowing what I know, it's not possible.

Or it already has.

I can't do this anymore either. All this writing. It does no good.

September 17th, 1994

Katherine told me she's pregnant. I am going to be a father. She was upset, but secretly, after I stopped wondering how it could be possible (since I very much know) I am excited. The baby will give me purpose. Someone to love and to care for. Katherine and I are buying a house so the baby can have a family and a nice place to grow up.

September 30th, 1994

If the baby is a boy, I want to name him Thomas.

November 13th, 1994

We finally found a house and we are setting up a nursery for the baby. It's still so far away.

December 1st, 1994

Thomas died a year ago. How much has changed since then? I hope he wouldn't be disappointed that I left. I'm doing better now. Once the baby is born, Katherine is going to go back to school and I will too. We're going to do well and have a family and everything will be good again.

April 17th, 1995

Any day now.

May 1st, 1995

I had a little girl last night. She hadn't been named yet, so I called her Little Girl when I went in to hold her. She has the most amazing green eyes I have ever seen. I love her. We named her Lydia, and she's amazing. Katherine let her middle name be Ashley, after Thomas's. I can't believe I helped make her. She smiled at me. I know that's ridiculous, but I think she did.

And...I think I'm needed. But I don't want to go.

May 4th, 1995

Katherine and I had a fight. I said I wanted to go help out, volunteer time at a shelter and she said I needed to be here. But there are so many people that still need help. I used to make a difference. I see that now. Even though it was in a way that was untrue, I helped. I don't want Lydia to grow up in a world where no one does anything and everyone hurts each other. And I don't want her to grow up in a world where no one fights for what the believe. I know what is out there. I don't know what it is, but I know it exsists. I'm needed and I've run away. I'm a coward and I have to make up for it.

Katherine has to let me.

May 15, 1995

Katherine won't let me.

May 31st, 1995

I am going back. Fuck it all, I am going back. I can go to a seminary and still be home on weekends to help with Lydia. But this is the only way. No one else knows what I saw and if they do, they aren't doing anything. I have to do this. But Katherine is going to leave me.

June 1st, 1995

Katherine left me.

June 15th, 1995

I am back.

May 17th, 1997

Arrived in Edinburgh today. I went to see the woman who contacted me at the seminary. Her son was presenting signs of mania as well as increased strength. She told me it started on his 16th birthday when, instead of the trip he'd been promised, he recieved an education fund to be used to go to an elite school. He'd gotten angry and destroyed her living room. Two weeks later, his mother found him just seconds after he'd killed the family dog because the dog had ripped up his favourite shoes.

I was allowed to meet the boy. His name is Darren, and he is currently in a maximum security section of a mental institution. His eyes were black, exacty like Svetlana's were. I managed to speak to him, however, and he seemed calm. His mother wants to know when he'll be allowed to come home. I have no answer for her.

May 21st, 1997

Today, I believe that Darren and I made a breakthrough. He explained that he did the things he did without realising he did them. We talked and I told him that he should take responsibility for his actions. I spoke to his doctors as well, explaining that there could be some sort of clinical reason that he does these things without knowing it. I explained that if he now realises that he can stop himself, maybe he can start to improve.

June 2nd, 1997

Darren is improving steadily. He's starting to control his outbursts of anger, and he's even had several successful visits from his mother where nothing has gone wrong. I feel I am doing good here. Helping to repair a family in need. Now I see how Svetlana's case should have been handelled. I could have helped her, but I didn't understand how. The best thing is to learn from the mistake and let that help others. I hope that Darren will soon be able to return home.

June 17th, 1997

After a month of working with Darren, he has finally been released from the institution. He is still required to return everyday for therapy, but I think he will do just fine. He hasn't had any problems in two weeks, and his doctors feel it is best for him to start working in a familiar environment. I will stay here another week, and then return to seminary.

Peter thought back. Darren had seemed fine. He'd left them after staying a few days later than he'd said. His mother, giving him a kiss on the cheek and thanking him earnestly. He'd been so proud that he'd helped. He turned the page. There it was.

June 30th, 1997

I recieved a phonecall from Darren's doctors today. Last night, Darren killed his mother with a kitchen knife, and then hung her body from the ceiling. The neighbors heard screaming and called the police. They found him watching cartoons on the living room sofa, covered in her blood. They said it took about 7 police officers to restrain him and cart him off to prision. Out of the seven, he severly injured 4 of them. No one knows what caused the outburst, we only know the result.

I failed.

January 19th, 1999

I've dreamt of her the past few nights. She's a small girl, her hair is long and black. Her skin is tan. But last night, her eyes turned black. She must be like Darren and Svetlana. I hope I dream of her again. I have permission to travel from the church, I just need to know where I am going. I can't try to help her if I don't know where she is.

I don't understand why I am finding this out in a dream.

January 27th, 1999

I arrived in Manchester today. It was as if I knew exactly where to go. I took a taxi to her school and I sat on a bench outside. She walked up to me, and I knew then, that she'd dreamed of me too. She sat beside me, asking who I was. I said I was a priest, in town to do some work with a local parish. We relaxed and chatted. She didn't seem like Darren at all. She was relaxed and happy. Then she said, 'you're a priest, right? Can I ask you something?' and she told me all about how lately, she's had the urge to hurt her little sister. She told me that she was adopted and the little girl isn't her blood sister and she hates that sometimes, her adoptive parents treat her better. I explained that those feelings of jealousy were normal and it was best to talk to her parents about it. We talked until it was well after dark. She told me she'd like to speak to me again and she went home. I hope I did the right thing.

If anything else, at least I got here in time.

January 31st, 1999

Her name is Samantha and she wants to be an actress when she grows up. She talked out her previous problems with her parents, and she says she's not angry at her little sister anymore. She wants me to come to her school play that the year 10 is putting on. I told her I'd love to.

February 5th, 1999

Samantha threw a fit in her school today because her best friend 'was flirting with the boy I have a crush on!'. She slammed her locker, resulting in knocking several of the lockers clear of the wall they were securely screwed in to. I had doubts that she was capable of the things I saw Svetlana and Darren do, but those doubts have been shattered. She's such a lovely girl. I don't want to loser her to this. She seemed honestly sorry and upset about what she'd done. We talked about it and I gave her the same advice I gave to Darren. I only hope it works.

February 7th, 1999

Sam has been suspended from school for the past few days, so we've been working a lot. Her parents now know about my involvement and they approve. I've been going over anger management techniques, which she seems to find quite silly. It is quite clear to me that she has no idea what is being done to her. I wish I understood it. She thinks it's just adolesence. It's not. It's something else. It is a type of spirit posession? Is it some genetic mutation? Is it some sort of psychological problem that manifests bursts of strength? That doesn't explain the eyes. Or the way that sometimes she seems to have a dark shadow around her.

February 8th, 1999

Sam and I were working together today, and out of nowhere, she got angry. I don't know what I said, but it triggered something. She stood and screamed, her voice was inhumanly loud. Her eyes went pitch black and I was terrified. She collapsed on the floor, sobbing. She told me to leave, which I did.

I shouldn't have.

Her little sister found her like that. Sam broke her arm and left, destroying the front of the house as she went. No warning, nothing. She just left. Her little sister will be fine, but I doubt Sam will be back.

I failed again. And I failed someone so innocent and pure...

February 13th, 1999

She hasn't come back.

October 4th, 1999

I had the most harrowing dream last night. A girl was ripping the heads off of animals while a crowd of people watched and cheered. It was like the Geek shows of the 1920's and 30's when people bit the heads off of animals for entertainment. But this wasn't entertaining in the least. She was enjoying it. It was my first dream of her and I already know where she is. She lives in an orphanage in Belfast. I've notified the church here, and I am leaving in a few hours. I can't imagine what she's done for me to dream this all at once.

October 5th, 1999

I called ahead to the orphanage yesterday and they were quite pleased that I could come to help them deal with Caoilfhionn. They said she started exhibiting bursts of rage about a month ago, when before she had been a docile quiet girl. I wanted to meet her today, but they had her locked in a room. I don't think that is the best course of action, but that is the only way they can keep her from the other children. I suggested they put her in a hospital, but they said they could not afford the bills. They wouldn't allow me to have the church foot the bill either.

They are going to make this worse.

October 6th, 1999

Caoilfhionn was let out of her room today after promising to behave herself. I met her. She chills me to the bone. There's an underlying cunning about her, like she knows how to manipulate people and she is just waiting for the right time to strike. Again, I suggested that she be put in a hopsital, but it seems that they trust her. Her demure smile reminds me of Svetlana. I am afraid for my own safety, let alone the saftey of the other children here. I think I will speak with a hospital myself.

October 7th, 1999

I was told by the hospital, that this kind of behaviour is normal for a child in an orphanage. They have no idea what they are talking about. No one here is listening to reason. They have a ticking time bomb on their hands and no one will believe me. It's infuriating.

I spoke with Caoilfhionn again. She stared right past me and didn't make eye contact until I inquired as to how she felt when she was locked away. I only wanted to make the point that if she could control herself, that wouldn't have to happen again. But she laughed. She looked into my eyes and she laughed.

October 8th, 1999

She's waiting for something. Why won't people let me do my job?

October 10th, 1999

Caoilfhionn killed one of the ladies that volunteered at the orphanage, along with 5 of the children that lived there. She ripped them apart and laughed. Then she locked the bodies in a room and wrote "This is how I feel about that" in blood across the door. They found her alseep in her own bed, blood soaking the sheets.

She's in a mental institution now. She is 14 years old.

This could have been avoided. I failed again.

June 17th, 2002

I have been having the dreams again. It's been so long, I thought I might not have them again. I thought that I may have been considered too big a failure. But the past few nights, I've been seeing a boy of about 16, red hair, green eyes. He seems terrified, backed up into a corner, shaking. But when I approach him in the dream, I feel myself fall ill. It's almost as if all the happiness is taken from me and black spots blur my vision. Last night, I dreamt that he was in Liverpool. I am sure that getting permission to travel there from Austria will be harder than if I was still in London, but I have to try.

June 25th, 2002

I arrived in Liverpool today, but I still haven't caught sight of the red headed boy. The dreams still haven't shown me where to find him and I feel something of an idiot wandering around trying to find someone I've only dreamt of. Still, I am here, and that is something.

June 27th, 2002

I met the boy today. His name is Evan. He has been in a mental hospital for most of his life. At the age of 5, his mother killed his father in front of him and then tried to kill him as well. She very nearly succeeded. By the time they found him, most of his blood had been drained from his body. No one is quite sure how he survived. The mother disappeared. Ethan hasn't spoken a word since that day. He sits in a room and rocks back and forth, his eyes blank. They let me sit with him, but he didn't even acknowledge my presence. I don't understand my purpose here. I cannot fix the horrors done to this child.

But I will try.

June 30th, 2002

I continue to visit Evan, everyday. Not once has he shown signs of noticing me. But when I mentioned his mother's name, his irises when completely red. I haven't ever seen that before. It was terrifying.

July 2nd, 2002

When I am in the room with Evan, he doesn't aknowledge me, but today a nurse gave me a drawning he'd done. It was crude and childlike, right down to the writing across it in crayon, laballing the drawing 'mummy'. It was of a grotesque woman with giant batlike wings. The nurse says that it's normal for traumatised children to envision the people that harmed them as larger than life, but I am not so sure that is what happened. I asked Evan if that was his mother and I recieved no reply.

July 3rd, 2002

Evan drew me another picture. It was of his mother again, but this time he was in it. They both had the wings and their eyes were black. The nurse seemed quite uneasy about it. I entered the room to ask Ethan about it to see if I got a response. He looked at me for the first time since I came here. His eyes were deviod of expression, of understanding. But he saw me.

I wonder if I might be able to make a difference now.

July 4th, 2002

Evan spoke today. He said, 'I can fly'.

July 6th, 2002

Today, I went to visit Evan, but they wouldn't allow me in the room. Instead, I watched through a window as Evan screamed and clawed at his own face as the doctors and nurses scrambled about trying to sedate him. It was a terrible scene to see, but they wouldn't let me help. He locked eyes with me, and I felt ill. My vision blurred, but not enough to miss the scratches on his face healing before me.

I have never witnessed anything like that in my life. Evan is being moved to a higher security hospital as I write this. I was never going to make a difference with this one. Why was I sent here? As some form of cruel punishment for failing one too many times?

Or was it to learn something? If it was, I missed the moral of the story.

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