Day 10:

Whilst at my desk, my secretary spilled coffee all over my right hand. She ran out the room and didn't return until later.

Day 11:

I remembered to take the DVD home. Whilst I was in the car, I got caught in traffic on the motorway. I was under a bridge and a small rock hit the passenger side of my car, destroying the headlight. The drivers in the other cars just looked over at my car in disgust—they're probably shocked at the audacity of this random act of vandalism. I couldn't see who threw the rock, but I knew I had to get home quick, before the police pull me over.

I said hello to my neighbour as I pulled up my driveway, but he just stared at me. There were tears in his eyes.

I went to greet my fiancé Terri, and she ran to the toilet. I promised to take her out for lunch tomorrow.

Day 12:

I did not sleep at all last night – I kept thinking about today.

It's Saturday and I'm finally going to watch the DVD. I'm apprehensive and I admit, I am a little bit worried, but I think it's in my patients' best interests to investigate the cause of their problems.

I told my fiancé that we were going to watch a film. She got angry and stormed off upstairs. I called after her and told her that I'd take her out later. She threw her book down the stairs.

There's definitely something wrong. I get the feeling that this disc is attracting a lot of hostility.

I had to push forth and watch this disc though – I can't come this far and give up already.

** The next section is a transcript of the DVD's contents**

The feature played immediately (there were no menus and there was the little timer in the corner – typical for a promo copy). There was no dramatic opening scene.

The opening started up and the music was there (albeit with reverb), but there were no names of the actors accompanying the pictures. The picture of the lake, that would normally accompany Jennifer Morrisons' name, was off too – the boat was rowing backwards very slowly and the camera seemed to be zooming in on the rowers' head. This only lasted for a minute and the camera didn't get too close.

I put it down to a mistake on the creators' part (maybe someone had tampered with it and no-one had time to correct it) and continued watching.

The screen snapped to black, then suddenly snapped to what looked liked actual footage of the cast between scenes. I say that because the actual camerawork had none of the gloss or editing you usually see on American TV.

Cameron, Chase and Foreman were sitting around the large table in the Diagnostics Office (there was no Taub, 13 or Martha) as if waiting for House to arrive. The characters seemed very off.

Foreman stared malevolently at his knuckles, Cameron looked like she was on the verge of tears and Chase was idly tapping his pen on the table only stopping to look up in disgust at his colleagues. It was as if they hated each others' guts.

After about 10 minutes, the titular doctor crept through the door – as if he was scared to disturb them – and hovered at the far corner of the room. His whole demeanour was sad, almost broken, as he kept mumbling the same phrase under his breath over and over again. He spoke softly, his voice warping with emotion (I could even hear the trademark English accent breaking through), as the other characters barely even registered his presence.

House edged closer to the table, when Foreman suddenly stopped glaring at his knuckles and shot up from his seat. He picked up a nearby mug and threw it onto House, dousing him with searing hot coffee – I swear, I will never forget how much Houses' squeal made me jump. He dropped to the floor, out of shot, and began to sob – a horrible, low, childish whine that progressed into a wracking, breathless sob. It was like he was choking on his own sadness. The screen slowly faded to white and the cries became this irritating high-pitched electronic wail – I have never heard anything so weird before.

The next sequence had the camera panning across the corridors of Princeton Plainsborogh Teaching Hospital in a very jerky fashion – more like a slideshow than actual film. There was no sound. Only two people were in the hallway in one frame; two women with jet black hair and weird faces – it was like someone had uploaded an image to Photoshop and tinkered with the facial proportions (pupils and teeth made larger, eyebrows and nostrils smaller). The women were posed in a very stiff, very warped fashion; they seemed to be talking and laughing, but their eyes looked bewildered, as if forced into this uncomfortable position.

The timer in the corner seemed to be going crazy – the time skipped forward a few hours, then back one hour.

The camera stopped on the exterior shot of the mens' room. Out of nowhere, a hand suddenly appeared (this time the film quality became that of a camcorder – no gloss or editing) and pushed the door open from the hands' P.O.V. All cubicle doors were half-open, except one, which was shut. There were random sounds of what I guessed to be elbows hitting the door. At the bottom of the screen, underneath the door, the viewer could make out a pair of smart leather dress shoes. The feet seemed to shuffle a little. Moaning is heard, high pitched and agitated, but I cannot make out what it is saying. A loud bang and a thump is heard, then the man inside the cubicle slumps.

The hand opens the cubicle door.

Wilson appears to be sprawled over the toilet; his red tie dangling underneath him and a large bullet exit-wound on the back of his head. There is more agitated mumbling and the camcorder is dropped to the floor – everything goes to static. I assumed the camera had broken.

I was about to switch the TV off, when a face suddenly appeared on the screen. I did not recognize who or what it was, but it started talking – live-action footage of a mans' mouth was superimposed onto the static image of the face and it was talking to me. I could not hear a thing, nor could I make out what words the lips were forming, but I reacted nonetheless…it felt like my brain was hearing words, but my ears weren't.

The bottom lip quivered on the face (a nasty, electronic screech accompanying every jerk of the lip) and my dvd player just gave up there and then.

I needed comfort – I was sweating and cold and I felt sick. I went upstairs to see Terri, but she hid under the bed and told me to get out. She looked at me like I was filthy. I wanted to smash her fucking face in.

I went back to the DVD. I needed to see the part with the face again; I wanted to know exactly what it was saying. Forwarding the DVD at 4 times the speed, I noticed different images – things I hadn't seen before. Reels of Sped up footage filled the screen; graphic neurosurgery, autistic children arranging toy bricks (yellow, red, blue), emaciated arms lying on hospital bedding, thrashing, flailing, thrashing. Emilys' disjointed sentences ran through my mind

SUICIDE FACES ANGER

On a constant reel.

Bitch came down the stairs and stared at me. I told her to fuck off, fucking bitch, looking at me

SUICIDE FACES ANGER

ANGER FACES SUICIDE

I couldn't find the face again

Words in my head

She cries and

She cries some more

I sleep now.