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.

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8. Brainstorm

I'd spent the night in some very strange places before. Such as a tent in the forest below the Hollywood sign, a flat rock on a cliff near the San Andreas fault line, and even in a cave where the only entrance is underwater. All of which pale in comparison to a chaise-lounge in the living room of an iconic mansion.

I was still slighty freaked out by last night and the mind games, so I did jump a bit when I woke. At least daylight took away the creepy feel. By day, it was just an abandoned, dusty home.

"Did you like the song I left for you?" Michael asked, as I pushed myself clumsily onto my elbows.

"Uhh, what song?" I groaned, attempting to clear the early-morning cotton wool that clogged my head.

"You know, the one I left for you on the piano. You gave it a go last night." He pressed on, as I managed to push myself upright. I could see him leaning on the piano, looking right at me. I bet I looked a right mess, what with not sleeping that well.

"Oh yeah, that one. It seems ok. I haven't heard it properly, so I can't tell." I reply, remembering the sheet music that I found. I stood up and stretched backwards, loosening myself up.

"Couldn't you work it out from the notes?" Michael asked, watching me dust myself over.

"Nope, I can't read music. All I know is that the further down the lines the note is, the lower it is." I said, going over to the piano whilst running a hand through my hair. It snagged in a knot and pulled, which always hurts. I'm not allowed to cut it shorter than shoulder-length, much to my annoyance, as my mother says it'll make me look like a boy.

"Can't you? It would be very useful for you. Well, if you choose to do anything music-related, it would be." Michael said.

"I would like to, but I really, really want to be an instructor. Like at a summer camp." I replied, hoping he wouldn't laugh or try to put me off, like my mother does.

"What do you want to instruct people in? There's all sorts you could do. Like swimming, raft-building, zip-lining, or maybe rock-climbing." He asked, sounding genuinely interested.

"I don't mind. Either of them would be great." I replied, my hands on the keys.

"Press down on that key there." Michael said, looking over my shoulder at the sheet music and touching the key. I did as he said, and then on the next key he touched. I carried on pressing down on the keys he touched, creating the song.

"Is that the song you left?" I asked, hitting the notes.

"Yes, it is. It's one of my last works, but it's very little-known." Michael said, touching the last key.

"What's it called? I might have heard of it."

"It's very appropriate for the events of yesterday. It's called "Is It Scary?" and it's featured in a music video. You can still see it sometimes." He explained.

"Never heard of it."

"Haven't you? What have you heard then?" He asked, sounding genuinely confused.

I was a bit embarassed then; I'd never heard any of his music before, ever. I doubted I could even name one song, let alone the words, "Erm...I don't think I've ever heard any." I said, feeling the heat radiating off me as I blushed.

"What! Why on earth not?"

"You kind-of, come second-best to this joker. Apparently, he's trying to fill your spot in the music world. I really hope he fails; he sucks." I explain, as I personally hate that Bieber.

"So, you can't get hold of any of my music? You'll definitely have to check the museum in town. Speaking of which, we'd better get going." He said, leading me out through the hall, where I saw he'd won the Noughts and Crosses game. Wih a sigh, I carried on through the kitchen and out into the grounds.

Climbing over the wall at the back, I hadn't a clue about what I was going to have to do for research. I mean, how do you research a secret society with potentially a murderous past. Like I said, they wouldn't put any important information in a public place.

"I'll give you some good starting points. After all, I'm the one who ended up like this because of them." I jumped back back as Michael had appeared next to me as I landed on the other side, "Habit, I can't help reading people's minds. It's a ghost thing." He explains, reading my puzzled expression.

"Okaay, that's slightly weird. Anyway, what's the first thng to look for?" I asked.

"Anything with pyramids or black-and-white checks. That should narrow it down a bit." He replies, gliding alongside me.

"Pyramids, or black-and white checks. Shouldn't be too much to check then." I said. Clearly this was going to be a walk in the park.

"I did a music video set in Ancient Egypt in the 1990s, and the second-longest music video I ever did had a black-and-white tiled floor in it. Not to mention an album cover." He explained, as I realised I had a lot more to do then I first realised.

"Right, ok. That's not exactly helpful, but definitely still manageable. Anything else?" I asked, hoping there wasn't a lot more to find.

"Try to find anything with triangular patterns, military-style garments, weaponry, bullets, anything to do with intelligence or enlightenment, eyes, and the world."

"Still a reasonable amount."

"Nearly everything I ever wore, or nearly every setting for my music videos, featured a triangular pattern. The military featured in most of my latest works, weaponry was a very prominent feature in the movie I was involved in. I wore a lot of bullet straps during the last three official tours I did, and when I starred in the Superbowl half-time show. Most of the lyrics from 1987 onwards were about becoming enlightened by changing the world, eyes were worked into a lot of my album designs, and the charity I founded was about the world."

I had such a lot to do, "How long will that take? A year?" I asked.

"Not likely. Only a few things were directly designed to rub them the wrong way. And try not to move your lips when you talk to me; people are staring." He said, as a few Japanese tourists were looking directly at me and laughing behind their cameras.

"Who do you think I am, a ventriloquist or something?" I muttered, trying not to move my lips. So it sounded very strange. This sent the tourists into peals of laughter at my expense. Clearly they thought I was talking to myself.

"No, but you have to remember, they can't see and hear me, but they can see and hear you, so try harder." Michael hissed, as he glided through the ticket barrier effortlessly. I however, had to pay an extortionate amount.

"This better give some good results; I don't want to have wasted a good $15." I hissed, as I crossed through into the museum.

"It should, as most of my works are on display here. There might be some in the R 'n' R Hall of Fame on the Sunset Strip."

"So I might have wasted most of my money on an overpriced museu-ah, damn! What the hell is that doing there?" I was going to finish that, but I walked into this oversized Grammy award sitting right in the centre of the room. Several of the tourists fell over laughing at the Crazy Californian Clutz.

"Well, this is the Grammy Museum after all. A few grammies lying around would be expected. Are you ok?" Michael asked, as I rubbed my reddened nose.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I've had a lot worse. Anyway, let's see if I didn't waste my money."

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