[is sitting at his desk, near the window, the silhouette portrait that Erik returned to him propped on a place of prominence on one corner, so that the sun coming in will light it from behind.] It seems that I haven't written very much here, before - which is a shame. I had hoped that looking through this journal might help me remember more about myself.
Either way, I've started to go through the belongings I have found in my room ... most are mine, save for Ms. Williams' scrapbook I returned to her. If you happen to find anything labeled with the name Lemony Snicket, it would be mine, as that is my name, and I do not see why anyone would go around writing other people's names on their own belongings, unless they were meaning to confuse someone and send them on a wild goose chase .... which is merely a figure of speech meaning 'a fruitless search', and does not usually involve untamed geese, unless you happen to be the sort of person who enjoys such a thing.
Anything you find may be brought to the Gaudium Tower, room 1904. I have found a small note to myself in one pocket to help me remember this number - a mnemonic device stating "Isaac Bacchevis Singer's birth year". Perhaps it will help you to remember, as well.
[a little while later, he's exploring the music room. out of sheer curiosity, he's sat down at the piano and perused the sheet music. he can read it enough to know the melody, but he can't quite play it, so he's been wandering around looking for the proper instrument. instead, he finds that as he passes a television against one wall, it turns on, and begins to play a videotape. .... which shows a young woman lying on the floor ... and then someone he ...]... Oh...!
[...recognizes. well. one half of his face, anyway. sits down on the floor in front of it, and watches, curiously. and the moment the girl gets up from the floor, rises, and embraces Erik, he puts a hand to his mouth, his eyes welling with tears. so he'd had someone ... and been taken from them. how heartbreaking ---
wait. wait, it ... it gets worse? oh, SO much worse. and the sound of the approaching mob just sets him to shaking - they may not be his memories, but he knows that sound, and he knows the fear that goes with it. and ... and something about the choice that Erik is forced to make seems all too familiar, as well. he can't say how, or why, but ... it is, and the tears in his eyes spill down his cheeks. and when the girl returns to give Erik some small token he can't make out, he reaches out and turns the television off. somehow, he can't stand the thought of what he knows he'll see - the girl, going off to a life of safety and love with another man]
[after a few moments of quiet weeping, he takes up his journal and wonders at the sudden, hollow pit behind his heart. why would someone else's memories make him feel so very wretched? takes up his pen and writes, as he doesn't trust his voice just yet]To my kind friend Erik,
Forgive any intrusion, but I have found a videotape that belongs to you. I am in the Music Room should you care to claim it, but I warn you, it is of a most distressing and heartrending nature. If you do not wish to see something involving underground caverns, an attempted hanging, a strange music box, multilayered ornate dresses, or an angry mob, I would suggest leaving the tape just as it is, and not viewing it until your memories have returned. Or, perhaps, ever. I'm sure the castle has several other recordings of a much more pleasant nature - perhaps one of someone on a lovely ocean picnic.
With all due respect,
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