Disclaimer: Silent Hill and all related materials are property of Konami.

Wake Up, Bad Dream
By: Nanaki BH

I must've sat there forever, dead still with the diary still in hand, absolutely stunned and overcome with emotion. I closed my eyes and it was like I was holding his hand in mine. I clutched the open diary to my chest in an embrace and I wished so desperately that he could be there to receive it. He wasn't, though. And he wouldn't be. He was gone and I knew now that I wasn't the only person he'd left behind.

My eyes snapped open and the book fell from my limp grasp. "That's right," I said to the quiet of the room. "I'm not the only one, am I?" My heart began to swell with something a little lighter than sadness. I breathed a sigh and all at once, my grief left me, if only for a while. I had something more important to waste my time with. I stood with determination, snatching the book up from the floor. I was going to find this "James" guy whether he liked it or not.

Unfortunately, I got to thinking about that. "Whether he liked it or not" was right. How was I supposed to find him if my dad didn't even bother putting down a guess as to where he would be? Maybe he wasn't really as nomadic as my father thought. Then again, he sounded pretty confident. But how I was I supposed to find him without as much as a phone number?

The answer hit me all at once like a slap in the face. Douglas. If he could call me without me telling him my number, he would have no problem tracking down some ordinary guy. (I hoped he was ordinary enough to find, at least.) So I decided to give Douglas a call. It was a hunt in itself just finding his number. I found his office number on a scrap of paper I shoved in my skirt pocket after I found him again in the amusement park. I made sure to get it just in case. It wasn't like I was going to give him mine. That sure didn't stop him from finding a way to bother me, though, did it? My number is not for casual calls from old men!

I ran to the phone as quickly as I could without tripping over something. I uncurled the tiny piece of paper and held it up to read. It had blood and dirt stuck to it and I cringed, taking down a mental note to throw that skirt into the wash.

I rolled my eyes, having waited too long for him to answer once I dialed. I was almost ready to hang up the phone when I finally heard somebody pick up on the other end. "Hello?" It was Douglas and he sounded strangely out of breath.

"Hey, it's… um… Heather. Why do you sound so exhausted?"

He cleared his throat. "Ah. Well, I'm a busy guy, you know. I've got other needy customers. So. What can I do for you? How are things?"

I sighed. "Things are fine. And look, I'm sorry if I was short with you that other time you called. I'm a busy girl. I've got things to do, too." I was lying through my teeth and it made me just want to hit myself or something. I was apologizing by lying? What the hell kind of person was I? "But now I've got some business for you. You seem like a Silent Hill junky. You probably know a lot about that place, right? Well, there's a guy I need you to find for me."

"This sounds serious. Who's the guy?"

"His name is James. That's all I know. He went to Silent Hill for his wife. Sound familiar?"

He was silent then and when I asked if he was still listening, he only gave a displeased grunt. He knew something for sure and he just didn't want to tell me. My brow furrowed and I gripped the phone tightly in my hands. "Listen," I said firmly, trying my hardest to sound urgent, "you've got to find me that guy."

"Why would a pretty young girl such as you want to meet a guy like James Sunderland?"

At least I finally knew his whole name. It wasn't a very threatening sounding name; not the name of a killer. I flopped back onto the living room couch and closed my eyes, tiredly placing a hand on my forehead. "Douglas," I started, too tired to keep any agitation in my voice. "My dad gave me letters. I'm sure you know all about those. There was one where he talked about Mr. Sunderland… um… intimately. I think his dying wish was for me to meet him. I was hoping that, maybe, he might know something I don't or understand something I don't."

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Something. Like, maybe what my dad was like. He must've been different around him somehow. And I want to know what was so special about James. My father didn't enjoy sharing time with people he didn't know." He always shied away from people we didn't know for our own safety. It wasn't because he was anti-social. He sacrificed his own time – his own life to keep me safe.

He groaned, trying to tear himself away from whatever it was holding him back. "Fine," he said, "I'll find him for you. Don't blame me if he's not what you expected, though. I'll call you back when I've got something." Then he hung up.

Why would he act like I was making a mistake? My father knew him; this was hardly even a stranger then. So he was in Silent Hill. So was I. So he killed… his… Okay, so I'll admit that killing somebody isn't normal behavior. He must have had a reason then. If the other people who were there are anything like me, they can't possibly be entirely nuts; maybe eccentric or sort of weird. My dad wouldn't associate (or fall in love) with somebody dangerous.

And besides, he already asked for me to trust his word. There's never been a person I trust more.

Author's Notes: Aw, look: The softer side of Heather. The good stuff comes in the next chapter when she'll finally meet everybody's favorite Silent Hill pretty boy.