I spent the next few weeks with the detectives going over the evidence against my daughter. In spending time with me they had begun to accept I knew nothing of what had transpired at my house. It was not due to neglect or negligence just naivety. I hated the thought that I could have been so naive. I always thought of myself as an attentive mother who cared about her children and their lives. They would not let me visit Raine at any time although I was allowed to see her on closed circuit camera. She had been given a room far away from other children on the opposite side of the juvenile detention facility, her accomplices although segregated from the main population of youth were not kept under as intense scrutiny as she was. In the opinion of the detectives they were just other girls of the neighborhood manipulated by Raine. They were way more interested in the motivations of my daughter than in the weakness of her friends.
I sat there for days watching Raine through the video monitor. I wouldn’t leave as long as they allowed me to stay. Normally a mother would be allowed to visit their child in a detention center but due to the severity of the crimes no one but staff and psychologists had any access to her. I was allowed to watch the progress through the video feed but was not able to make any demands, her attorney had tried to set guidelines but I had overruled him. I wanted to know as bad as the detectives did why she had done the things she had done. I felt a defense lawyer making demands would just create an unnecessary quagmire. I know this makes me sound like a horrible mother and under normal circumstances I would have my lawyer defend my child with every defense he could muster, but the horror I had seen committed by this seemingly innocuous child had alleviated my desire for proper law ethics at this point.
As I watched Raine it was as if I were watching a live demonic possession. Most of the time she would just sit there staring into nothingness silent and unmoving. Other times she would be talking to herself but her words were indecipherable and foreign. The psychiatrist had contacted a linguistics professor in an attempt to understand what she might be saying but all he could discern was that it was a real language but a dead or unknown one. I didn’t know this child on the video before me. It was like my daughter was gone. The sweet little girl I had given birth to was gone and in her place was this thing, I know I may be repeating myself but you have to understand my shock and disbelief.
During my vigil over the video, unbeknownst to me, a man had come into the room and taken a seat beside me and immersed himself in the video as well. When at last I realized I was no longer alone I almost jumped out of my skin, I had been so engrossed in the video, observing every little action and tweak my daughter made I was oblivious to the world beyond that flickering box. When I composed myself and made every attempt to hide my surprise at the unexpected intrusion I was moved to ask who this man was.
“Who are you? I didn’t hear you come in.” I said trying to sound stronger than I felt.
“Sorry about that, I tend to move rather quiet. My wife hates it.” He said with a wide grin while examining my face. He was an older man with thinning grey disheveled hair topping an almost bald crown. He made no attempt to wrangle in his outrageous hair. He was old, about 50-55 with a deep craggy worn face to looked to have seen way too much drama in the short time a human would walk the earth. What stood out most was his eyes, they were a deep flecked emerald green with amber color around the pupils. They were like looking at two shattered emeralds glistening in the light of the room. “You looked so entranced by the video I didn’t want to disturb you. I hope its ok that I’m here.”
“Uh… Yea, I guess. Who are you?” I said not sure I wanted to know. I didn’t need more detectives or government agents hounding me with questions I couldn’t answer. “There is nothing more I can tell you that hasn’t already been asked a million times. I’m sorry but I just can’t give you people the answers you want.” I returned my attention to the screen looking longingly at the child sitting motionless on the bed, just wishing this nightmare would end and I could gather the bubbling happy child I thought I knew into my arms and sit down with my family. Happy. Ignorance truly is bliss.
This whole thing just felt like one long nightmare. And now this man sat next to me staring at the monitor trying to figure out what made my daughter tic. I wasn't sure how I should feel about it. He seemed very friendly and genuine but at the same time I had learned to trust no one. My instinct was if I could not even trust my own flesh and blood, then I could trust no one. The last person I truly trusted died the night they came for Raine.
“I apologize for not introducing myself immediately.” He said to me looking genuinely apologetic that he had shaken me. “My name is Father Grey, I’m a priest.” He paused a moment and looked at the monitor. “Well, you could say I’m kind of a priest. I am really more of a student of history and humanity who also happens to be a priest.” He grinned sheepishly at me searching my eyes for answers.
“As I said. Father. There is nothing I can tell you, I am as shocked and surprised by my daughter as anyone else was.” I turned back toward the monitor hoping I had deterred further discussion.
"Oh, I understand." He stated clearly undeterred by my cold demeanor. "I wouldn't trust another soul either if I were in your position, I mean if you can't trust your own flesh and blood then how could you possibly trust anyone else."
I was stunned by his insight into my predicament but I made no gesture of acknowledgement but he must have been more insightful than I knew because he seemed to read me without effort. "Look, I am not asking you to trust me. I am asking that you give me the chance to earn your trust."
"What is it you want then?"
"The same thing as you. To understand who or what this little girl is and how she came to be this way."
We both sat in silence for the next few minutes allowing each other time to think. After a bit the father spoke again. "I don't mean to sound impatient, and I very much appreciate you not telling me to get lost but I would like to discuss why I'm here."
"Yet." I said.
"Yet?" He replied questioningly.
"I haven't kicked you out YET." I said looking into those dark green eyes. "If you're just another detective or some parish priest looking for his fifteen minutes of fame then expect to be thrown out." I gave him a grim look so he knew I was serious.
"Point taken." He gave a deep chuckle before continuing. "I used to work for the church on exorcism. You might say the only reason I joined the church was to study possession up close. I was never really a believer but I knew there was something interesting happening besides a few hoaxes. I saw some interesting stuff in my time but nothing that would have me convinced of something paranormal or demonic happening. I had given up and have been retired for a few years, but a colleague saw this and thought it would interest me and I have to admit he was right."
After his little speech he quieted down to give me time to digest what he was telling me. I sat there for a half hour saying nothing, letting him stew for a bit. "Let's see how patient he is." I thought. Father Gray sat there silent as a mouse watching the scene for another hour. His patience was impressive.
"So what do you think is wrong with my daughter?"
He looked at me and a friendly smile formed across his lips. "Well..."
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