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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9. Burglar

There was a lot of stuff to search through, and I was barely skimming the surface. The fact I couldn't see a lot of it clearly, also didn't help.

"This is stupid. Nothing has matched the description you gave me." I whispered, peering into a display case containing a collection of albums with song lists underneath.

"Look at this one. In particular the symbol over the doors. Where else have you seen it?" Michael asked, his hand going through the glass as he touched the album.

I looked closely, unable to clearly make it out. It looked like a triangle with an eye in in the middle. It seemed very familiar, but I had no idea where from. "I don't know. Why would I have anything connected with it?"

"Check your purse." He said. I pulled it out of my bag and opened it.

"Nothing with a triangular eye in here. Just a few dollar bills." I lifted one out and turned it over in my hand. Nothing unusual on it. Just the eagle crest and the all-seeing eye.

"Look familiar to you?" He asked, tapping the eye insignia.

I froze; it matched exactly. Infact, now I recognised it, the triangular eye logo was everywhere. Literally everywhere.

"How hard did you try to show what you thought of them? As, may I just say, it's a little bit overkill." I whispered, remembering how many other things I had to look for.

"Like I said, only a few things were designed to do that. Like...like...like this!" He said, going around to the back of a podium.

"How would it?" I was a little confused at how it would provoke a secret society to try and kill him. It was a jacket, for Christ's sake.

"See that red stitching on the back? It's the logo sewn upside-down. That's what provoked them."

"I still don't see how that would." I whispered. It was beginning to sound like these "Illuminati" peeps were the kind of people who got really worked up over nothing.

"In England, it's an act of treason to stick a stamp on an envelope upside down. It's therefore an act of defiance to put a societies' logo upside-down. By doing that, I asked for it." Michael explained.

"So, what do we do now?" I asked, looking up at it.

"Well, the Illuminati always leave a message with anything that gave them reason to act, all we need to do is find it. Give me a minute to create a diversion."

"Wait, what do you want me to do?" I was worried now.

"Break the glass case and take it. It's that easy."

"What! No way, I ain't stealing nothing!"

"Keep your voice down, someone will hear you. We'll return it after you've checked it out. Now prepare for a smoke-out."

Michael lifted his arm through a beam of light. After directing the beam onto a patch of scarlet carpet, I saw a small wisp of black smoke curl up from the patch. Whatever ghosts are made of, must magnify and focus beams of light. A bit like a magnifying glass. In less than a minute, a bright orange flame leapt up.

"Fire! The place is alight!" A visitor shrieked, as the flame grew. By now, there was a considerable amount of thick smoke filling the room. You could barely see your hand in front of your face. Or a young thief in front of a display case.

"Get on with it!" The encouraging side of me hissed, as I looked around for anyone watching me. Breathing in deeply, I clenched my fist as tightly as possible, and forced it through the glass case.

Shards of glass rained everywhere, including through my hair and sticking out of my knuckles. I reached up and pulled the artifact off it's pedestal; the soft leather crumpling in my arms. Without pause for thought, I clutched it tightly to my chest and ran straight for somewhere where I couldn't get found.

Broom closets, though cramped and reeking of paint, have the advantage of being the last place people would look. I fumbled with the stolen jacket in my hand, figuring out how I could get out. I daren't move until my adrenaline levels had settled, as I don't think clearly when they're really high.

"Enough of a rush for you? That was such a reckless thing you did." Michael said, moving through me.

"I did? You were the one who set something on fire. You could have killed someone!" I whispered.

"Well as that fire is due to go out when you leave the building, I highly doubt that it will kill someone. Anyway, in case you haven't noticed, there's a window in here. You can use your initiative to get out."

I was becoming more reckless by the second; I had no idea why I was willingly going along with this, but I was. I smashed the window with my battered knuckles and scrambled through. My thighs were covered with scratches and had one long, deep cut down the front. I was going to be in a lot of pain for the rest of the day. Clutching the stolen artifact to my chest, I landed on the hard concrete of the alley behind the museum.

"Move it, come on!" Michael called, as I started scrambling over a wall. I had a good plan on how I wouldn't get caught. Balancing on top, I walked along the wall towards the building it was attatched to. After that, I pulled myself up onto the roof of that building.

My mother and my friends both don't like my thrillseeking activities, but they don't realise how good they are at keeping me physically fit and improving my strength, speed and stamina. I don't know any other girl at my age who can swim along the Los Angeles coastline almost as far north as Manhattan beach. I thanked my strange hobbies as I stood up on the flat roof of the apartment block, which would help me get far away from the crime scene. Gripping the stolen goods, I began running and jumping from apartment block, to apartment block.

"Are you crazy? If you fall, you could kill yourself!" Michael called, as I pulled myself up onto thr fourth building.

"It's only 3 storeys high, so it's not that bad. You even saw me jump off a 30 foot cliff into the sea and didn't say anything about it." I said, getting a decent run-up for the jump ahead. I took off and launched myself from the ledge, gripping tightly onto the other ledge when I got close enough.

"That's because you went after me."

"I thought you were going to kill me."

"Just be careful, ok. You're an amazing girl with a bright future, and I'm not letting it cut out too soon." Michael caught hold of me before I could start a run-up, and looked me deep in my brown, hazel-flecked eyes. "I'm serious, you're an amazing girl. Now, stop trying to kill yourself. I'm dead and it sucks, so don't even think of joining me. Promise me that."

"I promise I will never think of killing myself, ok." I said, looking back into Michael's deep brown eyes. They're very soulful and have a thick black line tattooed around them. If there wasn't a 35-year age gap, I would date him. But I can't, because it's weird.

"Good; I care about you. Not just as a human being, but also as a friend. Now let's go, before you get caught."

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