2.

I found a skeleton key in the cloak room today. I didn't think I'd get in to the cloak room to begin with, but the key was in the employee elevator. About half the rooms are opened, so the rest must be occupied. I guess. Who knows here? If rooms can be occupied with no sign of life, they're nearly full.

I don't think I've ever been so happy to find a stupid key. This place changes you. The old rusty bronze key is heavy, but opens everything. I got into the restaurant and fixed some actual food. I ate in silence while I watched the lake. I brought some beef jerky and soda with me, but I finished that off yesterday. I thought I was going to have to break in a store in town because all of them were closed yesterday. I don't know if they would be any different now or not. It's a long walk to be disappointed.

I don't know how this town operates. It's in terrible shape. Abandoned cars litter the road side, some parts of the roads are completely fallen in and there are blockades everywhere. What are they blocking off? Or in? Or is it out?

I still haven't located another person. Several times I swear, it felt like someone was near me, but there wasn't. I'm not really sure what I should do. I can't use the telephone. My cell phone doesn't get reception. The televisions might as well be broken because apparently they've never heard of cable here, either. I guess I just wait until I find a garage or see dad. Where could he be?

I found a massive, ornate music box in the lobby. It was actually very beautiful, not that I'm really into that sort of thing. I'm just an average kid, I guess. According to the cop, I'm a grown man, but I don't feel it. My father disappeared just after graduation night and I've coasted through life since. I didn't enroll in college this semester. I couldn't. I can't focus on studies. I can't think of what I want to be "when I grow up." I enjoy writing, but always suspected I would end up as an electrician, like dad. I don't know now.

I've been watching the lake through the windows in the café. What is the name of it? I think its Café Toluca. Public places are creepy without people to occupy them. I found a crumpled up receipt there, dad's signature, dad's credit card. I know he's here. I just don't know where.

I may try to get into Venus Tears. Dad wasn't a big drinker, but he would drink around others. Maybe there's some clue as to where he went or what he was doing here. You know the strange thing? The writing on the postcard, now that I look at it, it wasn't dad's. I don't know who wrote it. I don't know why they didn't specify what they meant. Why couldn't they tell me what I needed to do?

The Reading Room may be another good place. Dad always liked to know his geography when he went hunting or fishing, he said it a million times. He might've gone there to look at some local maps.

I've tried all summer to recall exactly what happened that day. You know, I should remember it more than anything. It was the day my father vanished. I don't. I don't know why I can't remember more. I recall coming home from Frankie's house. He was accepted at the University of Virginia that day. I stopped and grabbed a pizza on the way home. I didn't know what dad would be doing, he'd taken the week off.

I came home, the front door was open. Not just unlocked, but wide open. I remember that much. We didn't live in an area where everything had to be locked at all times, but you didn't leave your doors wide open, either. Wild animals would come in if we did.

His truck was gone. I remember a smear of red on the floor of the garage, where his truck would've been. I figured it was paint, he'd been painting Mrs. Grigsby's dresser for her, it looked just like the color she picked out, a god-awful dark rusty red. It was her color, she said.

I can't remember much after that. A day later, I called the cops, they sent a man over, he looked at the garage, looked at the smear, and scolded me for trying to control my father. He said it wasn't any of my business where he went or who he was with, he was a grown man. There was no reason to suspect foul play so I should leave it alone. I tried the National Center for Missing Adults, too. They listed him, but I didn't hear any more.

The policeman came three months ago. I never heard anything else. I got the postcard, like I said, but it wasn't in his handwriting. I figured this was as good a place as any to find him. Maybe he hit a midlife crisis or something. He never struck me as the type to have such a crisis, but who knows?

I'm getting ready to turn in for the night. I'll write more if I think of anything. It's not like there's anything else to do here and I don't know how long it would take me to leave the area if I have to walk. I drove through most of the town. I counted tens of streets and it took me twenty minutes off the interstate before I arrived in town. I think it had been an hour since I left that other town, before I arrived in Silent Hill. I can't imagine how long it would take to walk it.