That isn't red-eye. It's not some amateur photographer's error. This is photographic evidence of the demon living inside me during my earliest years. Blessed with a heightened sensitivity to the supernatural activity surrounding me, but too weak to master or understand it, I was easy prey for demons. Here, for instance, I had turned my seemingly innocent present—a toy telephone—upside down and seen it for what it was: a direct line to Satan. Of course, at the time I didn't know who Satan was. But I remember him promising me that all I had to do was pick up that phone, and he'd be my copilot.

For the record, that Barbie cowboy hat on the lower left hand side of the shot was a gift to Alanna, not me. I may have been in contact with the netherworld, but I wasn't that far gone.