4.
The solitude finally got to me. I couldn't take this place any longer so I thought I'd see if anyone else lived anywhere. I hiked into town, outside the resort area. I don't think I'm ever leaving the resort again. I don't know if it would do any good. I thought I had gone insane. As a matter of fact, that would be the most logical and rational explanation behind what has happened. I have lost my mind. Or maybe I'm dead. I don't know which could possibly be worse. This may not be hell, precisely, but it's a lot like Purgatory or something like that. I guess… hell, I don't know.
On a positive note, I ran into several people, which is the only positive thing I can say right now. I met a man named James Sunderland. He was traveling with a woman named Maria. They said they were searching for a young girl named Laura, something about James searching for his wife, who was supposed to be dead. I wonder how many people come to Silent Hill to find their loved ones. I can't help, but wonder why those loved ones come here in the first place. Maybe we've all collectively gone mad.
I think this was all a mistake. Why did I ever think my father came here? Sure, he may've enjoyed his visits here, but you know, I don't really remember any of them. Why didn't he choose a spot I knew? We camped often, why didn't he want me to go to the campground? Why here? What if the postcard was just sent by some weirdo? What if it had nothing, whatsoever, to do with my father? Why was I so certain it did?
I saw something today. I think it is the same creature I saw when I wrecked. It's a humanoid figure, but it looked like a sheet of thin skin was stretched across the head and torso. A oozing wound on its chest spat out the most disgusting substance. The muck looked corrosive. James called them the "lying figures." There were several of those in town. I first just outran them. That seemed like the best approach. He also told me I needed a weapon. I don't know why. I don't plan on staying so there's no real need to settle in or anything. James told me never to visit the Brookhaven Hospital or any other large building in town. Why couldn't I visit the hospital? Unless… maybe dad's in the there? Maybe he had an accident of some kind and he's been in the hospital this whole time? Maybe he hasn't been conscious enough to tell the medical staff he has a son.
I can't figure out how to get out of Silent Hill. I haven't found a single working engine, I didn't even bother visiting my own car. It won't make it to a garage and, no telephone numbers work here, so there's no hope for a tow truck. I don't know if I'll ever make it out. Not even the cop cars here function in any way.
I visited the Silent Hill Historical Society. It was empty, of course, but it did provide a brief look into this town. It's not normal. There was a massive hole in the wall in the back room, but I didn't dare explore it. Who knows what could be down there? Maybe, if I ever see James again, I'll ask him about it. The steps appeared to be endless, just down, down, down.
I walked down Nathan Avenue. I found "Petes Bowl-A-Rama" and an abandoned "Texxon" gas station. I briefly saw signs for a place called "Heaven's Night Club," but it looked just as empty as the other places. I explored a little of the Rosewater Park, but had a bad feeling there. Maybe something was down there, I don't know.
At least there are other people here. I can only wait and see what time will bring. There is plenty of food. Evidently, someone's paying the utilities because there's gas and electricity. I just wish I could find others. James and Maria only talked for a little while and left. I found a guy named Eddie, but he was just creepy. I didn't want to talk to him.
I wonder if there's any news of dad back home. Maybe he's back already. I left him a note, just in case he returned while I was gone. I didn't think he would, but maybe he'll come and get me. I hope. I don't know how else I'm getting back. James was trying to find his wife, not find a way out. If I see him again, I'll ask him. The way things are here, I'm not counting on seeing anyone again.
I walked on the dock again. I remembered my father's return after one of his business trips. He was so happy. He'd brought home a deer, we frequently ate venison. He always seemed happiest when he returned from those trips. I hoped for weeks it would be like that over the summer. Hoped he would come back with game in the truck or… just something. Anything.
When mom disappeared, he became the house cook. He could carve up game more perfectly than any butcher could. He knew exactly how to slice each different cut and, at the same time, remove any unpleasant trace of fatty tissue or silver skin. My father was all I had. Now, I don't even have him.
I don't know. Maybe there's some strange local vacation or something going on. Where is everyone? Dad? Where are you?