[Case number: HMPS-PET-07673201
Name: Ragnell, K.
Evidence code: 9201/F/09012019
Evidence type: Moneta – verbal stream-of-consciousness log,
interpreted by Joseph, K from raw data file – 0007h]
My name is Kaylee Yvonne Ragnell. I am twenty-six years old. The date is July 23, 2004. The prime minister is Edward Miliband.
As the two of us slam the doors of the panther black Ford Focus – almost in sync – I pull the balaclava down over my face. I’ve had three day pub crawls where I’ve felt better than I feel right now. My head feels like it’s inside a centrifuge. I can focus on a thought and it seems to be pulled out from under me. I can’t recall any of the little things before now. Did I eat breakfast? What did we talk about on the way here? What the hell is that in my pocket stabbing at my thigh? Who on earth is Edward Miliband? The prime minister is Tony Blair. If I was at work now, someone would be recommending me to the padded room, I’m sure.
What do you expect when you open the door in the morning? To see a familiar street, to see children racing up the pathways, dressed in school uniform. Sometimes you open it at the exact moment the postman is about to deliver your mail. In that instance it is common to regret wearing your baggiest tracksuit bottoms and a completely unflattering top. That is what I expected as I pulled the door towards me that morning. I did not expect this.
A mirror. Someone held up a mirror to scare me. Somehow they painted the slabs leading down the lawn on it. They found a way to superimpose the hedgerows which surround my garden on it, the large iron gate which keeps the world at bay. But its movements were not my own. It had my same chestnut-coloured hair, it curled in the same places just below the ears. It had my brown eyes, my annoyingly oversized upper-lip. It’s me. A better-dressed version of me.
“Don’t freak out,” it said, raising its hands. “I’m here to tell you something which you need to hear.”