Now that I've arrived in a place called Amityville, in an old house that appeared uninhabited to me, I suppose I could write down what else I've seen.
So when I returned to Manhattan Island, I happened to have come across some kind of magazine, which gave away more details about that exposition I mentioned. Normally I wouldn't look into such things, as I'd rather be surprised, but I needed to know if it would be worth my while, so I flipped through it. Among other things, it spoke of automatic shoe-laces, a remote-control device (of which I still haven't read the specifics, nor did I see the wonder of that, but if it's especially mentioned, there has to be something special about it), more advanced holographic projections, even a prototype of a flying car. To see this with my own eyes, I'm pretty sure this'll make it worth my while.
After that, I finally found something that would keep my journal waterproof. Not the most conventional thing, if that even exists, or the most efficient, it's just some kind of plastic bag that could be sealed airtightly. It's usually used to preserve food, but it will work fine, I'm sure. The only problem is that I'll have to take it in or out of the bag every time I use it.
When I left that store, I saw a movie theatre, where they were playing "The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor". So they finally turned Evelyn O'Connol's third book into a movie too. Which reminded me, I've nearly finished my "Tracer Bullet" novel, so I'll have to find another book to read. But then, if I were to buy another one, I hardly have any space left for anything else. So I decided to send the "Tracer Bullet" back home by post, so I can buy myself another one here. Maybe I should buy the first "Mummy" novel, or one of Bill Denbrough's novels. I'll see when I finished my first novel.
About my ride off the island, I'd rather not talk about it, but then... I have already written down all other oddities, so what's one more or less? The ride I hitched had a blond, curly haired woman behind the steering wheel, who appeared at least twice as old as I am. Unfortunately, my foreign accent was something that had her attracted to me. Once we were over the bridge and on Long Island, I told her to stop the car. She nearly begged me not to leave, to a point I had to demand her to let me go. She now probably wouldn't be so nice to other people from my country, but who am I to care?
So after another long walk, I finally reached Amityville, where I found the abandoned house I mentioned. I must say that this house is a little weird. For one, I feel cold some times, despite the summer weather. I also smelled some kind of perfume, as though somebody else was here, or someone is still here. But when I checked, I saw no one. I don't know what's going on here, if anything at all. Then again, it was a long day, so my being tired has me seeing things that aren't there, or even rendered me too tired to think rationally. The sun has already disappeared behind the horizon, leaving only some of it's lights to be visible. After everything that happened so far, I guess I should sleep now.
Thursday, July 10th 2008:
It's four in the morning, but I don't particularly feel like sleeping right now. My only hope is that I won't wake up my sleeping mate. Now you're probably wondering when I got a sleeping mate.
While I was sleeping in that house in Amityville, I woke up from a loud bang, which seemed to be caused by the front door. Not too long after that, I heard a car driving away. It was a few minutes past midnight when that happened. It didn't take long before I realized there was something causing some kind of knocking. At first I thought it was some bird running on the roof, or rats in the walls, but then I noticed the knocking kept going on. I wasn't sure of what was going on, but if I were to sleep at all, I'd better check it out.
It took me a while, but I soon realized the knocking came from the attic. When I reached it, I found a girl, who didn't appear much older than me, gagged and tied to an old chair. I couldn't be too sure, but she looked familiar. Once I recognized her as that reporter from Faux News, whom I had seen in Washington D.C., I couldn't blame the one putting her here for having done so. In fact, I kind of enjoyed seeing her like this. But she kept mumbling something through her gag. I suppose, unlike her, I should show her some kind of mercy. So I took off the gag, allowing her to talk. From what we talked about, it turns out she wasn't who I thought she was, she was just someone who looked like the reporter I mentioned. This girl was called Jessica. She told me that she was kidnapped by an angry mob, and brought to this house to waste away. The mob in question was, as she told me, only angry because she dared to tell people that God himself spoke to her through her printer. She was, as she said, an atheist, much like myself, who was just convinced of the existence of God when her printer started printing replies to questions she asked, while she didn't do anything to make the machine print. This gives "Deus Ex Machina" a new meaning. I don't know if this (I guess I could call her that) angry little girl was crazy or not, but as she sounded, she now believed in a god, who makes it his hobby to pull practical jokes. That was something I couldn't disagree about. I mean, if you look at all of the world's greatest religions, Jewry, Christianity, Islam,... They must be personal jokes by God himself. I suppose, since we have the same idea about religion, she couldn't possibly be that biased Faux reporter, so I helped her to get free.
When we left the house, she was still angered by what that mob did to her. A point came that she decided to go a place called Arkham, which is in Massachusettes. Why, I couldn't quite understand. She told me there's this... book, there, of which I can't remember it's name. She didn't believe in it's existence at first, but now that she knows that God exists, who knows what else exists. While she was at it, I asked her if she could drop me off there as well, so I could continue my journey. She decided she did owe me something, so she agreed to it. With the help of a friendly person living nearby, she got to call one of her friends, who helped her return home, where I am as well now, staying for the night.
Upon asking her why she was brought to that house in Amityville, she answered that the mob believed the house to be possessed by the devil. To them, it was the perfect place for someone like her to waste away. Now why am I not surprised? When something big like the tsunami in Miami and South-East Asia happens, God is blamed, but when it's something as small and/or stupid as a house, or a person, seemingly possessed, it's the work of the devil? Who's supposed to be the ultimate evil? Where's the sense in that? To me it's obvious who's the real evil.
I was using a small nightlight to write all this down, but then the electricity short-circuited, so I have to use my lighter to see what I'm writing. When an incident in Miami happens shortly after trash-mouthing God, that can be coincidence. When another such thing happens in Washinton D.C., that can happen. But just one more thing, in this case being the electricity short-circuiting, though not lethal, but still something happens after calling God a bad guy. Now this can't be coincidence anymore. Unfortunately for God, everything he does to me to have me convert, are all reasons to thwart him rather than worship him. When Jessica wakes up, I'm sure I'll have a nice topic of conversation with her.