Background: A series of letters from a former occupant of the house were found in a wall in the kitchen. Every time their taken out, they disappear, only to be found back in the wall, until their taken from the house, to the church, where Donald works as the Pastor...

Scene: Helen, Donald's wife, is telling Dr. Berry of her experience. Berry is recording the interview...

Quickly I answered the door, but no one was there. I walked outside, angry, looking for the prankster. As I scanned the area, I saw Mr. Johnston is sitting across the street. I quickly walked over to him. “Was someone at my door?”
“No ma’am.”
I nodded, then went back into the house. As I entered, the door slammed shut behind me. Terrified, I stood there and stared at it. Slowly I walked to the door and opened it. I hurried out the door and decided to run errands until Donald returned.”

—I checked the tape, “When I interviewed your husband, he indicated that something was wrong with you. If I am right, the next thing he did was share the letters with you in his office, yes?”
She looked at me and smirked, “That’s when I discovered who was haunting the house. Things only got worse from there.”
“What happened when you returned to the house?”
“Well, if Donald told you correctly, we had a fight that night in our bedroom. After the fight, I stood at the edge of the staircase, peering down into the darkness. Though I could not see anything, I felt as if I was being watched. I knew Elizabeth was staring at me.”
“Did you experience any more phenomena that night?”
She looked off to the side, “No, but it came roaring back the next day. Donald had left for work and I was in the shower. Everything was fine until a rush of cold air quickly filled the bathroom. I responded by increasing the temperature of the water, but as I was adjusting the knobs, I heard the toilet flush and a rush of cold water came out of the showerhead! The shock of the cold water made me scream.
Once the water returned to warm, I opened the shower door, but nothing looked out of place. I closed the door, but not a moment later, I heard the water in the sink running! I opened the shower door and indeed, it was. The bathroom door was open as well. I called out, “Donald?” There was no response. I began think of the incident in the kitchen and I felt the need to leave the bathroom.
As I stepped out of the shower, I heard the shower water being turned off! Quickly I fled into the bedroom after grabbing my robe. I could feel the temperature of my room falling. Before anything else happened, I quickly left the room and closed the door. I hurried downstairs and into the kitchen. Through the window, I saw Mr. Johnston mowing and the sight gave me some peace.
I sighed and smiled, but then again, the scratching sounds were back! Slowly, I backed away from the kitchen, but the sound seemed to follow me. I had to get out of there.
Still in my robe, I rushed out the front door, but the sound got louder. I paused; then turned to look at the roof. I was delighted, almost hysterical, to see a chipmunk leap from the roof onto a tree. “So, you’re my ghost.” I rolled her eyes and walked back into the house. I had never felt such relief in my life, but it was not to last.
Later in the afternoon, I was in the basement doing laundry. As I picked up a basket of clean clothes, the light went out. I felt something pass right through me. It is difficult to describe, but it is almost as if they touched my soul in an unfriendly way. I froze in fear and stared at the open door at the top of the stairs. I took one step, and the door slammed shut! Instantly, I dropped the laundry and ran up the stairs to the door. I tried to open it, but it would not budge. I screamed, “Let me out! Please!” There was no reply, only silence.
I collapsed on the stairs and leaned against the door, crying. I felt lost in a hopeless pit of despair. I was battling something I could not see or hear, but it was there.
Time passed very slowly. It seemed like an eternity, but finally I heard Donald come in. I screamed, “Donald!”
The next thing I knew the light from the kitchen was pouring in and he stood above me. I grabbed him and screamed, “The door would not open! It would not let me out!”
He tried to calm me down, but I just kept mumbling, almost uncontrollably, “It would not let me out.” I remember getting in the car, but I do not remember much about the ride. The next thing I remember was sitting in front of a psychologist.
He came in, shook Donald’s hand, and talked with him a bit. I remember his name was Dr. Robertson.”
After Donald left, the doctor sat down and looked me in the eye, “What’s wrong today Helen?”
I looked at him, “Do you believe in ghosts?” I was shocked by his reaction.
“Absolutely I do, is your house haunted?”
I wanted to say yes, but feared what would happen if I did, so I told him I did not know. Instead, I told him that I felt weird in that house sometimes, but nothing like today. I explained that when the light went off in the basement and that thing passed through me, every sense in my body seemed to freeze. However, it was nothing like the feeling of hopelessness when that basement door would not open.
He looked at me with a caring face, “That sounds very traumatic. Have you always feared the basement?”
I looked at him and wiped the tears from my eyes, “No, I have never feared any part of that house. What I fear is what happens to me in the house.”
He prescribed me some kind of medication and let Donald take me home. Somehow, the police had gotten word of what happened and were there when we arrived. They checked out the house, but found nothing. After they left, Donald took me inside and gave me a couple of pills. I passed out after that.”

—I was about to interrupt with a question, but she continued…

“…The next morning I made breakfast for Donald and everything seemed fine. I had slept wonderfully and hoped all of my troubles were behind me. I was finishing my breakfast as he left for work.
However, as he closed the front door, everything changed. I looked around at the inside of the house and it seemed darker and more mysterious. I got the sensation that the house was mad at me. I stood from the table and walked up the stairs to my room. As I was about to enter, the door slammed shut!
Instinctively I backed away. As I passed by the next room, the door slammed shut. I turned and the door by the stairs slammed shut. I wanted to run, but was overwhelmed with fear. I closed my eyes and began to pray as I slowly made my way down the stairs. As I did, I heard the roof creaking, as if a great weight was on it.
I could feel the air around me turning cold and I felt sad and full of despair. I collapsed half way down the stairs, unable to move, feeling a horrific sense of sadness and hopelessness. I do not know how long I was there, but it was a while.
When I came to, I stepped off the last step and the house became eerily quiet. Even though I could see the light from the outside through the windows, the light did not illuminate the interior. It was as if everything was bathed in an overcasting shadow.
Again something came over me. I felt a sense of despair unlike anything I had ever experienced. Crying and sobbing, I collapsed onto the floor. I could feel no more happiness and no more love. My chest became sore from crying and grieving. I could not understand what I was grieving for, but it was so real that I wanted to die. It seemed the only solution to end the grieving.
Again, I do not know how long that episode lasted, but it seemed like hours. The feeling finally passed and I stood. At that point, I knew I had to leave. I walked to the front door and turned the handle, but it would not open. Quickly I ran to the glass door, but it too would not open! In desperation, I grabbed a chair and threw it at the glass. The glass shattered, but it did not fall. Suddenly I was hit in the back of the head with a blunt object, blood poured from the open wound. I fell, dazed from the attack and found it hard to breathe.
After a few minutes, I gathered enough strength to make it back to the front door. I pulled with all my might and begged, “Please let me out. Please!”
There was no response and the door held fast. Frustrated, I crawled to the glass door, blood dripping onto the floor from the back of my head. As I passed the projector, it came crashing to the ground. My emotions were overloaded. I pulled and pulled at the glass door, pleading to be set free, but the door would not open and the glass would not break. Suddenly a light hit my eye. I turned and saw the front door was wide open! The light and smell of fresh cut grass came through the house. I crawled for the door, but it slammed shut before I could get outside. It was the most hopeless feeling. I curled into a ball next to the door and cried. “Please let me out, please. I will never come back, please let me go.”
I listened as everything in the house was breaking itself. I just stayed curled up against the door praying. Finally, as the last dish shattered, the house fell quiet. My breathing became labored and my left arm began to feel numb. With the last bit of energy, I looked into the living room and mumbled, “I’m sorry.”
The front door clicked and I turned to see it was slightly opened. Shaking, I used my right hand to open the door. I stumbled outside, trying to breathe. Finally, as I stood outside the house, I felt free. In my mind I heard, “Run.”
I stood and ran from the house, falling to the ground multiple times. As I looked back, the front door slammed shut! That is the last thing I remember. When I came to, I was in this room.”

I thought about what to ask her next. I was amazed at how well she was able to speak of her incident, however it had been months, so that may have been a factor. “Wow, that’s quite an ordeal. Your husband indicated you were quite upset when you saw him.”
She looked upset at the question, “Wouldn’t you be? How would you react if you were forced to undergo treatment for an illness you do not have?”
A part of me agreed with her, but decided to move forward, “So has your situation improved since you came here?”
Again, she looked irritated, “That’s a stupid question.”
“What I mean is, has the phenomena stopped?” She looked off to the side and sighed. I watched her closely. I could tell that she was a strong woman and she was fighting this, whatever it was, with all her might.
She looked back at me and softly said, “No, it is constantly with me. I just hope that it is not hurting Donald as it hurts me.”
I looked at her carefully, “What do you mean?”
Her eyes welled with tears and she sobbed, “Shortly after being committed to this hell, I was watching television. Suddenly the television went off as a voice in my head said, “I’m going to be to your husband what you never were.”
At first, I dismissed the voice, but then it repeated itself. I looked around the room, but no one was there.
The room became heavy and I felt something holding me down. The voice continued, “You’re going to watch. You will see you husband in my arms.”
I was so terrified! I closed my eyes and asked why it was happening, but there was no response. I felt pressure around my throat and I struggled to breath. I must have passed out, because the next thing I knew, I was back inside the house!
However, I was not alone, I was sitting on the floor of the den. A woman, dressed in a tight red dress, with red hair and green eyes was sitting on my sofa. As she moved, she revealed Donald sitting behind her, giving her a massage! Her movements and seduction were intoxicating to him. She stared into my eyes as he became bolder and purposely slipped his hands under her arms and cupped her breasts.
She slipped the dress down and allowed his hands to feel the flesh of her breasts, all while staring me in the eyes. I tried to look away, but again, I was being held in place, forced to watch.
As he began kissing the back of her neck, she said, “It could be like this forever. Would you like that?”
Without missing a beat, he said yes. It was as if I was not even there. I screamed at him, but he did not react. I tried to look away, but I could not. There was absolutely nothing I could do, but watch.
A moment later, she pushed him to the floor, then guided his head up. He licked the underside of her breast until his tongue crossed her right nipple. He felt her hands tighten around his head. She pushed, encouraging him. He looked up at her as heads tossed back and forth. Her eyes caught his and she smiled, “Take all you want.”
As he continued, she rubbed his hair, played with his ears, but her hands never left his head. As his lips began to tire, he tried to move to the next breast, but her hands tightened. His sweet captivity was a long desired fantasy.
A moment later, she then laid back and extended out her leg as Donald put his hands around it. She looked at him and said, “Worship me.”
I looked at him, “How can you do that? Are you not a man of God?” But he did not react.
I watched as he slipped her toe into his mouth, something he never did for me. He sucked on it and it appeared to bring him pleasure.
The woman looked at me again and smiled sadistically. She then used her foot to push Donald’s head up her leg, as his tongue dragging across it. I begged him to stop, but he did not.
However, the woman did stop him. She sat forward and looked into his eyes, “Lick me, my love.”
As his head lowered between her legs, she smiled at me, “Donald is mine and you shall pay the price for his sin.” She then petted his head and said, “Lick my pussy love. Lick it while your wife watches!”
I cried for him to stop, but he would not listen. . The woman bucked against Donald, smiling in a sinister way at me. “It feels so good when they lick through your orgasm, doesn’t it?” Helen put out her arms towards Donald, “Please stop…”
The witch took her hands off Donald’s head, “I’m about to cum; stop or I might squirt in your mouth.”
Donald did not stop, instead he licked faster and harder. The woman looked at me, “Looks like you’re no longer needed, your husband has elected this to continue, and continue it shall, without end.”
When it was over, I looked around and realized I was back in the hospital room. This nightmare has been going on night after night, since I was brought here.”

Helen turned away from me. I tried to get her attention again, but she refused to acknowledge me. I walked around the bed and saw her crying, uncontrollably, like so many had described. Though she could leave the house, it appeared the house would not leave her.