Never Alone

I remember reading a newspaper article about a random pattern of break-ins in the Beverly hills area, that just suddenly stopped after the second one. I decided to create the story of the break-ins, but with a twist.

A young thrillseeker has a new way of getting her rush. She decides to break into some celebrities homes.
The first few are easy, until she gets caught by the owner of a huge mansion. If that wasn't scary enough, there's one tiny thing to take into account.
The owner died 3 years ago.

Now Diana has a big secret to hide, and a bigger secret to uncover. One that could leave her the same way as her ghostly friend.


10. Bearings

I had somehow made it back to the mansion without getting caught, and was now standing by the piano, analysing the stolen artifact. However, I had found nothing connected to the Illuminati.

"There's nothing here. This was a waste of time." I complained, searching the inside lining.

"There must be something in there. You're just not looking hard enough." Michael replied, smiling that same smile he did when we first properly met. "Try it on." He says, trying not to laugh.

"Why?" I asked, as it's a weird request.

"I just want to see what you look like in it." Michael pressed on, trying to persuade me.

"I'll look like an idiot, that's what." I reply.

"Just try it. I promise you won't look like an idiot." Michael just won't give up. In the end, I lift it up and slip it on, being careful not to damage it.

"I feel stupid in this. It doesn't feel right on me." I move my shoulders around under the leather, but nothing makes it soften up. "Did you wear this in a video?" I ask.

"You might say that. You're wearing what secured me a world record." He replied, putting his hands on my shoulders.

"How can you have moved in this? It's really stiff." I try moving my shoulders again, but it's still really hard.

"Try putting your hands above your head. That might do it."

I raise my hands above my head and move them towards eachother. When they're about 12 inches apart, there's a loud crackling from the right shoulder. I put my hands down and slip the jacket off.

"You looked great in that. Why'd you take it off?" Michael asked, as I spread it out on the piano again.

"There's something in the right shoulder pad. I heard it crackle." I replied, feeling around inside it. There was definitely something in the fabric. Only trouble was, how was I going to get it out?

"Cut it open." He said, to my horror.

"It's bad enough that I stole it, but I'm not destroying it aswell. It's not mine."

"No, but it technically is mine, and I'm letting you cut something out of it. It's only one little rip anyway."

Nervously, I took hold of the inner lining, and pulled hard. The rip that was left behind, was enough for a sheet of paper sewn into the sleeve, to fall out.

"I said the message was there. It was just very well hidden." Michael said, as I unfolded it.

"Hold on, let me read it first." I said, scanning it from the top.

It was another piece of sheet music. Very old-looking and the title on the top was in another language, but still readable. If you know how to, that is.

"It's sheet music. I'm not sure what song it is, but you can try and play it." I say, setting it down on the music stand.

"I can't. I'll just go straight through the keys. We'll have to play it as one. Like how we did for Is It Scary?, where I tell you which keys to press."

I put my hands gently on the keys, and pressed on each key Michael pointed at. The classical melody rang out through the mansion, making it seem alive again. I couldn't place the tune, but I had a feeling Michael could.

"Der ort wo ich geboren wurde. The place where I was born, by Mozart. I had no idea that me dying was that important."

"What, where are we going?" I asked, feeling worried.

"The place where Mozart was born. I'm taking you out to Vienna."

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