In my early twenties, I spent a lot of time in South Texas women's prison units, helping people find forgiveness and second chances at life. It was then that I spent a weekend with one of America's most notorious killers.
On this particular weekend in 2008, when we arrived, the correctional officers informed our team that there was a new inmate on the premises. She was only 17 years old.
Because I was the youngest person on our prison team, they voted me to be the one to work with her as they thought that she might open up to me more. I had a rule for myself when I worked with these women to never look up their crimes. I didn't want it to affect my judgment about them or to affect my willingness to help them.
On that day, the correctional officers walked me down a long corridor into a classroom where sitting at the table was Erin Caffey. Erin was very small. She was also very tender, and soft-spoken, and rarely looked me in the eye.
Whenever I laid eyes on her, I thought: "How can somebody this small and this timid possibly be convicted as an adult for a violent crime? What violence is she possibly capable of?"
Little did I know.
We started talking and getting to know each other and even cracked a few jokes. I tried to get her to lighten up and, eventually, she began opening up to me by volunteering some details about her version of what had happened the night of her crime.
Even though I had a rule to really try not to know what people had done, I was very curious because again, she was so small, she was 17 years old, and she looked very scared.
Erin told me her version of the events that took place the night of the crime, which led me to believe that she was a victim in all of it and that it was really out of her hands. She couldn't stop it and she was haunted by it, and regrets it every day of her life; she just wishes she could take it all back.
She was so convincing, and I truly believed that she was innocent. I thought that she had somehow gotten mixed up with the wrong crowd and was wrongly convicted. I started brainstorming in my head, thinking: "How can I raise awareness about this and help her get out?"
Little did I know in my naivety that this young lady was very likely a psychopath. She was very cunning, very manipulative, and the small mousy, timid soft-spoken persona was very much a calculated tactic to be a wolf in sheep's clothing.
After she had told me her version of events, I was almost outraged that she was there. I thought: "What idiots put this poor tiny little thing behind bars with all these adult criminals?"
But in a split second, the entire energy of the room changed. Erin was sitting across the table from me, her shoulders slumped forward and her head down, and all of a sudden, as I leaned in to try and hear her, she locked eyes with me.
My stomach dropped.
That second, the wolf showed up in her eyes. The hairs on the back of my neck stood straight up. I had this horrible, sick feeling. I was in a predatory environment. I finished the session with her, trying to keep my cool, even though at this point my body was crawling with the creeps.
I left the prison, got in my car, and went to my hotel room for the night. I began processing: What did I see? I still had that rule for myself, that I don't look up the crimes of people I work with. So I didn't. Instead, I rolled over, watched a little TV, and fell asleep.
But I didn't stay asleep long. I was woken up by a horrific panic attack. I'd had a nightmare about her eyes. Those dark black shark eyes looking at me. I had a dream about her face contorting and evil surrounding me and being in the room with me.
So I broke my rule and looked her up. It turns out that Erin Caffey was an organized mastermind and participated in the slaughter of her family. Her two elementary school-age brothers were murdered with swords.
Her mother was shot multiple times and was nearly beheaded with the same sword. Her father was shot multiple times, including several rounds to the face, but he actually survived the attack.
Erin and her three accomplices lit the house on fire and fled the scene, and they were found and arrested the next day.
As for how it personally affected me, I genuinely believe that something dark and evil followed me home from the prison that night and it stayed with me for years after that.
I was haunted by night terrors, by nightmares, panic attacks, sleep paralysis, and shadow figures. Not everybody can say that they have genuinely looked into the face of evil and had it look back on them. But I did. And it has never left me.
Jordan Rainer is a country music recording artist. In 2008, she worked in prison units in south Texas, helping women find second chances at life.
All views expressed in this article are the author's own.
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