Brenda

Chapter Two: Paranormal Music Box

What about that boy did I like: his stringy, raven hair or the fact that he appeared to be around my age—thirteen? Of all the times that man visited me, he never brought him.

I stepped before the music box again, tripping it, and moved my ghostly form toward my room, adjusting the flower crown on my head. I wanted to reveal myself, but at the same time, I didn't.

Riley's dad swung my door open, and he and Riley approached the music box. "Brenda, do you know the name of the man who murdered you?" asked Riley's father.

While I did, I refused to get into it, so I stayed clear of the Spirit Box. That was a horrific death; I'd rather forget it. Right now, Riley was my priority. I needed to grab his attention and tell him that I wouldn't hurt him.

"Are you shy, Brenda?" was Riley's dad's second query.

I tripped over my foot and toppled beside the Cat Ball.

"Oooh!" Riley's dad excitedly stated when it blinked on and off. "She's in here with us, Riley. Are you okay, Brenda? Did you fall?"

"That was a loud bang," Riley shakily admitted.

"Yeah," his dad replied, nodding. "Brenda, if you're truly in here with us, could you trigger the Cat Ball again?"

I knocked it off to the side, and it sailed toward Riley, landing before his sneakers.

"Oh my gosh!" he screamed. "That's it—I'm out."

"No, no, no. Wait." His dad neared him. "Listen to her, Ri. She likes you."

"Yeah, well, I don't like her."

My heart sank. It was like the night the man dropped me into the well. He put a rock in my bag and pushed me off the edge while I was unconscious but still alive.

"But I like you," I whispered to myself. Riley was as handsome as a buck and dumped me like that? How hard was it for a girl to get a friend?

I sniffed and floated into my room, triggering the music box.

"Great, Riley," his dad said in the living room. "You upset her."

"I don't care," he argued back. "She's not real."

Yes, I am. I sat on my mattress and stretched my legs, tugging my nightgown over my knees.

The boys soon entered my room again, their gear in hand, and Riley's dad pointed his EMF Meter at me. "It's spiking to red, Riley. Hey, Brenda"—he set the music box on the floor—"you like this music box, so if you're not too upset, could you trip it again? Please?"

I stared at the coffin-shaped box and replayed the eerie, mesmerizing melody in my head. Oh, how I loved music, but I never became a star.

Riley and his father cleared the area around my bed and waited, Riley with his arms crossed.

"Say you're sorry, Ri," his dad ordered.

"Why should I?"

My heart sank again. Nevertheless, I carefully slid off the mattress and stood, approaching the box.

It went off, and Riley's dad gasped. "Brenda, thank you so much. We understand if you're upset now and will leave if you want us. We can try again later in the week."

"Don't leave me here with the demon," I whimpered. He periodically left the well and came into the house, attacking me like a cat and a mouse. I was tired of it. I needed Riley to defeat him and get me out of that place. That called for another attempt at the Spirit Box, which sat beside the music box. "Help."