Journal, Monday 21.02.11

Is it really Monday? Has it really been three days since I last posted an update? It's hard to keep track of time here. There's a clock in the living room but the batteries have run out. Dicky and I bought supplies with us - food, bottled water, clothes and the like – but we didn't think to bring batteries. Speaking of Dicky, he hasn't said two words to me since Friday. I understand that he's tired and that this isn't exactly a social visit but it'd be nice to have someone to talk to. I keep praying that Emily will walk through the backdoor, happy and well and full of things to talk about, but as the hours roll by, it seems unlikelier by the minute.


I finished the diary, sort of. The last twenty pages or so have been ripped out. Here's the rest of it in its entirety.


July 14th 1985


John came back, just like I told them that he would, looking hung-over and tired. He didn't really have much to say about his excursion, he just went up to bed and stayed there for the rest of the day. An hour or so after his return, a pair of gentleman arrived at the house asking to see him. They looked angry and we all assumed that John had down something to upset them the night before. We lied and said that we still hadn't seen him.
And then, this afternoon, the men came back with a third man, an older gentleman. He insisted that we let him come in and have a look around the house but we told him where he could stick his request.
John came back downstairs just before dinner (Annie cooked lobster – it was amazing) but, no matter how hard we pressed him for the details, he had no recollection of his activities, other than the fact that he had woken up on the beach and walked up to town to get himself a drink. We told him about the men that had come to visit and he just shrugged. I suspect that he remembers something but doesn't want to talk about it. I won't press him further.
Tonight, we sat out on the terrace and played cards until the early hours of morning. Annie bluffed Richard out of most of his money and he sulked off to bed. I stayed up for a little while longer, until it became apparent that I was a third wheel and then I left Annie and John alone. Turns out she does have a crush on him after all.


July 15th 1985


We were awoken this morning by the sounds of a man screaming. Richard and I were the first to the terrace, where we came upon a man bleeding badly from the chest. Around his neck was a note. It read: "When you make a bet, you'd best stick to it. Welcome to the circle". Richard, being the only one of with medical training, saw to the man whilst I went upstairs to question John about our new arrival. I found him in bed with Annie and…


Whatever comes next has been removed, I suspect by my dad or by Harrison's father himself. 


My father never spoke of anyone named Annie or of any of the things that happened to him in this beach house. What's disturbing is that the entries are from July 1985. My father married my mother in 82.


Tomorrow, I'll ask Dicky if his father ever spoke to him about any of this. Right now though, I need to get some sleep. According to the clock on the laptop, it's almost three o'clock in the afternoon. I'm on watch from six, so I'd better get my head down for a few hours.


Also, the power is down and the laptop will run out of juice if I use it too often. I wonder where the internet access is coming from?