‘Tommy was a mess. With all drips and bags of blood hanging off him. And, worse than that, he had these wounds all over him. Horrible cuts, bits stitched up. The doc had been eating him. Cutting bits off with his scalpel. From his arms and legs. Worst thing was – the boy was still alive. The doc was keeping him alive. So the meat was fresh, I reckon. But man, he was a mess. Unconscious luckily. I knew how bad that would all hurt. So I put a pillow over his face.

‘When I came out, the doctor was looking at me crazy. I laid into him for what he’d done and he broke down, weeping and sobbing and grovelling. Down on his knees, saying all, “Sorry, sorry, sorry,” and stuff. I’d liked the doctor, he’d been doing his best, but this thing wasn’t him any more. I had to be careful, though. I didn’t know where Abby was. If he’d done something to her while I was in Tommy’s room. He was clinging on to my shirt. I dragged him along. “Where’s Abby? What have you done to Abby?”

‘He’d injected her like the nurse. She was lying on the floor in the waiting room as if she was asleep. Don’t know what was in the syringe. Hoped it wasn’t poison. I shrugged him off and went to her, and that was when he came at me with another syringe. But I was ready for him. I’d picked up a scalpel in Tommy’s room. Cut his hand, across the back, and then I dug it in his wrist until he dropped the syringe, blood going everywhere. He was really sorry for himself now, whimpering like a little baby. He went off to his surgery and I heard him banging around, looking for medicine and bandages to fix himself up, I guess.

‘I went back to Abby. She was still alive, though in a dead sleep. I tried to get her up, but it hurt too much. I was still pretty weak and my hands and arms were much worse than my legs. I could hear the doc moving about. Knew he’d be back soon. I did what they do in films. I slapped Abby, but it didn’t do anything.