The Possession of Doug Sawyer (second draft)

2nd December, 1999

So, I guess I’ve to keep this diary so I can write down my feelings and describe what’s been going on in my life. Dr. () said it’d be good because men generally don’t feel comfortable speaking about their problems, which can lead to depression and stuff, which is the problem that I have, he says. Dr. () is my therapist who I started seeing today because I can’t sleep. He says I’ve got insomnia and that I need to start taking Lunesta which should help me sleep at night. He also recommended that I listen to whale sounds when trying to go to sleep too, so he gave me a CD. Fucking whale sounds. I told him that I’d kiss his bare arse if the whale sounds work.

Paul called again, I told him I don’t think I’ll be in work tomorrow either.

6th December 1999

It’s been a few days now that I’ve been taking the Lunesta, and I’ve had nothing good to say about them other than last night when something fucking weird happened. I was on the couch watching a re-run of, ‘Stars in their eyes’ after Angela went to bed and I could feel my eyes getting heavier and heavier. Dr. () had mentioned that the drug acts as sort of a hypnotic sedative, but I wasn’t expecting to feel so drowsy so fast, and they hadn’t had that effect on me since taking them except for last night.

All I remember is trying to keep my eyes open because the TV was still blaring and I hadn’t finished my cigarette which I had placed on the edge of the ashtray on the floor by the couch. I eventually let myself relax and when I opened my eyes again, I swear I saw Angela on the TV. I was obviously dreaming, because it wasn’t really Angela – it was Angela when she was young, how she looked when I first met her; slim, blonde and tanned – but her eyes were different, they were black…the whites of them too, completely black. It was real creepy because she was smiling and standing on the stage where Matthew Kelly should’ve been standing. The only thing I could hear was a rough scratching sound, like static, and then a voice. Angela’s voice. It woke me up as she whispered my name. I could feel her breath on my neck and I jumped up and out from my sleep – there was nothing on the screen except static. Smoke caught my eye and I looked down and saw that the cigarette had fell from the ashtray and onto the rug. I stomped it out and switched the TV off at the wall, the hairs on my neck still standing from feeling her breath on me.

Angela was in bed, asleep. I couldn’t sleep for the rest of the night for thinking about the dream, slightly cautious about having another one like it.

6th December, 1999

The alarm for Angela’s work knocked me out of my daze of staring at the ceiling this morning. I rolled onto my side and looked at her still sleeping face, trying to wake itself up at the sound of the alarm. Yellow crust had formed at the sides of her eyes during the night and I could smell morning breath coming from the parting between her dry lips. A deep sigh escaped her lips as she opened her eyes, “Did you get any sleep last night?”. I shook my head a little, “I got maybe like an hour”. Disappointment showed in her eyes as usual where understanding should be, “Guess you’ll be phoning your boss to say you’re not coming into work today?”. I sighed as she sat up and began to get dressed. Today she was wearing another delightful grey pant suit and her hair up in a jaw clip.

Paul didn’t take it well when I told him I wouldn’t be coming into work today, his words were along the lines of, “You’re on thin ice, Doug”.

She slammed the door to the apartment shut on her way out to work. I couldn't blame her for being pissed, I hadn't been raking any money for a while now and I was close to losing my job. But fuck her. I can't help that I don't get any sleep. I'm tired all the time but I just can't bring myself to relax; take a deep breath, shut my mind off for one second.

I thought Angela and I were gonna be different - she promised me years ago that we wouldn't let our love fade like it had. I couldn't stop the feeing of betrayal, that she had somehow abandoned me and left me alone in this world to cope with my stress all on my own - the fucking bitch.

I shut my eyes tight, to keep the tears in, but it was no use. I pulled the bedsheets over my head, attempting to hide from the world outside of the white cotton; Angela, the traffic down below, Paul - plus the house felt colder than usual. I wrapped the sheets around me more but the warmth wouldn't stay. I could feel myself drift into the old, forgotten feeling of falling asleep.

I dreamt that I had stepped out into the hall to turn the radiators on but something caught my eye from the hall. The stairs from the attic were pulled down and the hatch was open. 'Hmmph, Angela must've went up there at some point earlier and not bothered to shut it - and the bitch had the fucking cheek to pull me up over silly little things like that before.' I thought as I walked up the stairs to the attic in my dream.

There she was again - the girl from the TV, the one who looked exactly like Angela when she was younger. But she wasn't exactly young Angela either, there was a white misty glow that encircled her, as if I was looking at her through fogged glass. She was standing in the middle of the attic, surrounded by mine and Angela's old boxes full of family photographs and christmas decorations.

The small sky light window in the attic was the only source of light for this time in the day, I had looked out the window earlier when Angela was still getting ready for work and the sky was a sheet of white clouds.

I stopped and took a good look at her - her black, empty eyes staring at me was the stuff of nightmares, but I didn't feel scared, I felt the complete opposite. I was glad to see her again, I felt comforted when dreaming of her, like somehow she was Angela when she was younger, and she could see how bad our relationship had turned out. I could see sympathy in the black of her eyes, I could see understanding. This was the Angela that I still loved. Grabbing her face in the dream, I began to kiss her.

7th December, 1999

Angela still hasn't spoke to me since yesterday in the attic. She said that she came home from work and could hear me shouting her name from upstairs. All I remember is her screaming when she walked in to see me naked in the attic, thrusting the air. I'd never slept walked in my life before yesterday, I must've really been enjoying the dream to take off all my clothes and begin thrusting the air. I still don't see why she's mad at me - or maybe she's just weirded out.

15th December, 1999

Dr. Munro called this morning to ask about the Lunesta, I told him I've been getting a few hours more sleep each night but my dreams have all been insane, he said that's normal and that I should continue taking them.

Angela's been coming home late everynight from work, I'm certain that she's having an affair now - she comes home smelling of sweat and lube. It's alright though, because I've been seeing her everynight - the Angela in the attic. She whispers things to me that only Angela could know and she lets me float in mid air. All night we spend together, I let her take over me like I'm her puppet.

POLICE REPORT Case no: 48830 Date: 24th December, 1999

Reporting officer: Cassidy James

Incident: Apparant Suicide

At approximately 45 minutes past midnight on the 24th December, 1999 Mrs Angela Sawyer came home after a work night out to find her husband, Doug Sawyer standing on the window ledge of their living room talking to himself.

Whilst, Mrs Sawyer insists that Mr.Sawyer was talking to someone, she did not see anyone in the room with her husband at that time and the forensics team that arrived on the scene after the incident searched the apartment but found noone other than Mrs.Sawyer.

After careful examination of Doug Sawyer's diary, it was clear that he was mentally unstable and had not made this fact obvious to the people around him such as his wife or his doctor, Dr.Munro.

Mrs.Sawyer has been taken in for further questioning . The apartment and the sidewalk where the scene occured has been taped off for forensic clearance.

AUTOPSY REPORT Date: 26th December, 1999

Name: Doug Sawyer

Age:

Sex: Male

Adress: 340 LandsRing Terrace, London

Length: 177cm

Weight: 140 Ibs

Blood type: B

Description: Upon surface examination, it appears that the deceased has suffered severe damage to the skull and joints which is the case for most suicides caused throug jumping from a large height. However, examination of the eyes show that the entirety of the eye somehow became black some hours before the deceased's death. The iris, the pupil, and most disturbing of all, the sclera is black. This higly unusual appearance of a deceased person calls for more examination, however the wife has requested that his body be tampered with as little as possible before his funeral.

Probable cause of death: Suicide