Read Rockstar Ghost PG-13 Version Page 6

  Chapter 5: Search and Destroy

  Blake could feel Rosalie's body beginning to resist the possession and took a mental step backwards - right out of Rosalie's body.

  Rosalie spun around and gawked at Blake. "You just?used my body?" Throughout the entire ordeal, Rosalie had been able to watch what was going on as Blake controlled her body, but had been unable to do anything. Like being a passenger in a car that one isn't driving.

  Blake scratched the back of his head and gave Rosalie a sheepish look. "Yea, I think I just possessed your body."

  "Possessed?" Rosalie's pale cheeks became tinged with pink. "You perverted ghost! How dare you enter my body!" The medium shrieked and attacked Blake.

  Blake put up his arm in defense and dodged Rosalie's pathetic punches and slaps. "Whoa. Is that any way to thank me? I just saved your pathetic ass - again. You are such an ungrateful girl."

  "My glasses?!" Rosalie reached into her pocket and put her round glasses back on.

  Rosalie and Blake glared at each other for a moment before Rosalie sighed in defeat. Blake was right?he had saved her yet again! "I?thank you?but this doesn't change anything. I'm still not going to help you with your revenge!" Rosalie stated and stormed out of the hospital room, slamming the door shut behind her.

  Blake just phased right through it and floated after Rosalie. "Hey, wait up! Why not? I just helped you! You should repay me!"

  Rosalie shook her head. "I?can't. I finally got a job and I'm saving money for my father's medicine and medical treatments." Rosalie began to explain in a hushed voice. "He has cancer, Blake." Rosalie revealed in a tortured tone.

  "You can get another job at Wraythe Records - you'd make more money there anyways. Then you can help me figure out who murdered me!" Blake insisted with a huff.

  Rosalie stopped in the middle of the hallway and kept her head lowered. "It's not that easy. You don't understand. It's not so easy to get a job." Rosalie spun around to glare at Blake. "The world is not so easy! Though maybe for you it is. You've had everything handed to you on a silver platter. But not me. Life is hard. Very hard and I'm all alone. I just have myself to depend on, so stop trying to mess up my life. The life I'm trying so desperately to keep held together the way it already is!"

  Blake frowned at Rosalie. "You're acting like a coward. You're just?running away. I thought you wanted to be a nurse?so then why are you working at a 7-Eleven?! You're limiting yourself?your potential. I saw you operate on those animals. That was?pretty amazing. So why don't you just do what you want to do?!"

  "It's not so easy?just leave me alone! I'm going to be late for work!" Rosalie complained as she left the hospital and made her way to the bus stop. Blake stubbornly followed after her, floating behind.

  Rosalie rode the bus to the stop nearest the 7-Elevent, got off, and walked the rest of the way to the convenience store. Rosalie approached the automatic doors, which swished open as she entered. It was 11:05 PM. Rosalie was five minutes late and Carrie was already behind the counter.

  In front of Carrie were an open Book of Shadows and an open Bible. Random things were scattered all over the checkout counter: a corked vial of clear liquid, a small pouch, a head of garlic, and a silver, ball, incense censer with a chain attached to it.

  Carrie looked up when the door made its chiming sound. "Oh, hey Rosalie." She looked next to Rosalie keenly. "Is Blake with you?"

  "Er, yea?" Rosalie replied, noticing the strange glint in Carrie's eyes.

  Carrie picked up the vial, walked around the counter, and towards Rosalie. "Point to where he is."

  "Okay?" Rosalie said and pointed in Blake's direction.

  Carrie uncorked the vial of holy water and splashed it in the air where Blake was. "Ha! Take that evil spirit! Be purified and begone!"

  Blake flinched as the water passed through him - but nothing happened.

  "Is he still here?" The witch asked.

  Rosalie and Blake both formed sweat-drops on the sides of their heads. "Er, yes." Rosalie said.

  Carrie opened a tiny pouch next and flung some salt in the air in Blake's direction. "Begone, Evil Spirit! In the name of Jesus Christ! Free thyself of thy Earthly shackles! Still there?"

  "Yep." Rosalie droned.

  Carrie tried the incense ball next that was filled with lavender incense, more chants and prayers, and even tossed a garlic clove at Blake's head to no avail. At this point Blake had begun to laugh his butt off. "What the hell is she trying to do? An amateur comedy act? This isn't Saturday Night Live!"

  Rosalie blushed.

  But Carrie didn't give up. The stubborn Goth took out a small piece of paper and wrote something down on it. Rosalie and Blake peered over her shoulder curiously to see that she had written the phrase: 'Begone ghost of Blake White' upon the piece of paper. Carrie then used a needle and carved that same phrase into the wax of a white candle. She then set the candle on top of the piece of paper, lit it, and began to pray with the palms of her hands pressed together.

  Rosalie and Blake shared a questioning look. The ghost shrugged when once again nothing happened.

  Carrie then lit a bundle of sage and began to wave it around the 7-Eleven store to clear the store of negative energy and spirits. "He's laughing at me, isn't he? That ungrateful ghost. I wanted to help him, but he only wanted your help, Rosalie. That's why I decided to help him cross over a little faster. That's pretty strange that it didn't work?" The Wicca witch frowned, feeling frustrated.

  Rosalie patted Carrie's shoulder. "You gave it your best shot. Maybe he's just too evil to be banished?"

  "Hey!" Blake objected.

  "Yea, you're probably right?" Carrie agreed morosely as she set the burning bundle of sage into an ashtray. "Maybe he's already become a Lesser Demon or something." Carrie mused thoughtfully with a finger to her black lips in a pensive pose.

  "Hey! I'm right here!" Blake shouted at the Goth witch.

  Rosalie looked at Carrie thinking that the witch seemed to know a lot about ghosts and the supernatural. Rosalie chewed on her lower lip wondering if she should ask Carrie about the strange ghosts that she had seen that cried black tears like her Aunt Freya and what it meant exactly. "Um, Carrie?may I ask you a question?"

  Carrie turned to give Rosalie a surprised look and then a wide smile. "Of course, girl, ask away!"

  Rosalie let out a breath of relief. "Well, you see?sometimes I see ghosts that are different from other ghosts. Some ghosts cry black tears and the wounds that killed them ooze black blood. These ghosts also appear to be less?human. Sometimes they barely look human at all and are black blobs with glowing eyes. Do you know what this means?"

  Carrie frowned thoughtfully for a moment before she took out her Book of Shadows and began to flip through its pages. "I remember having read something in my book about that?give me a second to find it." Carrie flipped through the pages until she landed on one page in particular. "Here it is. The chapter on poltergeists." Carrie began to run her finger over some of the sentences. "It says here that ghosts that have remained too long on the Material Plane will begin to forget who they were and lose their memories. The ghosts will slowly lose themselves in the primary emotion that has kept them tied to the Material Plane - for example they can become pure beings of anger or hatred or revenge. As the ghosts lose their memories and become consumed by their emotions they turn into powerful ghosts that can move objects and actually harm people on the Material Plane. Characteristics include crying black tears, wounds that appear to have black blood and inhuman appearances. These ghosts are definitely dangerous, especially for someone like you Rosalie who can see ghosts."

  The medium paled at this new information. Her Aunt Freya was slowly becoming a poltergeist and would soon turn into a monster?one of those black blobs with glowing eyes that Rosalie had seen on the edges of her vision before. "W-Wait, Carrie, so what you're saying is?the longer Blake remains on the Material Plane?he will begin to forget who he was and he will eventually becom
e a poltergeist?"

  Carrie nodded, expression suddenly grim. "That is correct. That's also why I wanted Blake to cross over?ghosts don't belong here on our plane. It's an imbalance in the world. It's unnatural. Blake shouldn't be here. He needs to cross over. If he stays here he will eventually become a poltergeist, he won't remember you Rosalie, and he could end up attacking you."

  Blake gave Carrie a scandalized look. "I wouldn't do that?I'm stronger than that. I'm Blake White! I won't become some poltergeist before I get my revenge. And I would never hurt you, beggar girl."

  Rosalie gave Blake a tortured look. She didn't want to have anything to do with Blake White or his revenge but?the longer he stayed on the Material Plane?he would begin to lose himself. Theoretically, he needed to find out who murdered him and get his revenge so he could cross over as soon as possible. Rosalie shook her head. This wasn't her problem. She had her own problems. And her father's safety and well-being was her number one priority.

  Rosalie decided to sweep, mop, and dust the entire 7-Eleven while Blake floated around irritatingly following her every move. In a few hours the 7-Eleven was sparkling. Blake was quite sure that it was probably the cleanest 7-Eleven in all of California maybe, even in the entire United States.

  Blake had to admit that Rosalie was good at cleaning - but what was the point? He had seen Rosalie help to spay and neuter twenty cats. And he knew she had gone to Biola University with the intention of being a nurse. But now she was working at a 7-Eleven, wasting her life and potential!

  Rosalie went to do inventory in the storage room next. Inside the storage room there were several shelving units with canned goods, a large cooler, various other products sold inside the 7-Eleven in piles or in stacks, and a few vending machines up against the back wall.

  Rosalie got out her notebook and began to take inventory while Blake floated besides her.

  "Tch. This is pathetic?why do you even work here? It's a total waste of your time and potential?" Blake sneered out of frustration.

  Rosalie flinched. She didn't want to tell Blake that because of Dr. Cole she had been unable to get a job as a nurse at any other hospital. Dr. Cole was her problem. She would handle it on her own?she always handled her problems on her own, so why tell anyone about them? Blake wouldn't understand?poor, weak people were always going to be at the mercy of those stronger, richer and more powerful than them. That was just the way the world worked.

  "It's not so bad and 7-Eleven has a 401(k) retirement plan. So when I retire I don't have to worry about money." Rosalie began in a listless tone.

  Blake gawked at Rosalie. "Retirement plan? You plan to waste your life working in a crummy place like this! What about being a nurse? Isn't that what you really want to be doing? You can't really plan on wasting your potential by working here? I saw you with those animals Rosalie?you're good at what you do. You're a nurse at heart. That is your true calling."

  "Not everyone in this life gets to do what they really want to do." Rosalie said morosely.

  "Cowdung." Blake spat, startling Rosalie. "You're just making excuses. If you have something you want to be doing you just have to do it!"

  "I can't!" Rosalie burst out. "I just can't. I'm not like you. I'm not strong enough. I'm at the mercy of this world we live in?a pawn?I'm not a 'king' like you. I'm not in control of my life. Other people are in control of me and I can't escape them?!" The image of Dr. Cole's leering face seemed to be looming over her.

  "Cowdung." Blake snarled. "So you're just going to give up? Without even trying?! Winners never quit and quitters never win, Rosalie." The ghost raked his hand back through his stylish platinum blonde hair in an irked gesture.

  "I have tried?I did but?it's impossible for someone like me?" Rosalie trailed off sadly. My life is cursed?

  "Nothing is impossible. Aren't you tired of disappointing yourself? You just have to decide what you want to do and do it. JUST DO IT, ROSALIE!" Blake yelled out in frustration.

  "I CAN'T!" Rosalie yelled back in a surprisingly loud tone of voice.

  "YES, YOU CAN! You're better than this place! You deserve more. I can see your potential. The only thing holding you back and limiting yourself is: YOU! You are your own worst enemy! And you?you're still ALIVE! GAHHH!" Blake roared out and the lights within the storage room began to flicker eerily affected by the ghost's rage, frustration and hurt. He was dead and he'd never get to do what he wanted to do most again, which was: sing!

  Rosalie could feel a powerful aura swelling around Blake and then it was exploding outwards - like a telekinetic blast. This force knocked into one of the shelving units in the storage room and tipped it sideways so that it began to fall.

  "Rosalie, look out!" Blake yelled.

  Rosalie dove out of the way as the shelving unit crashed into the shelving unit besides it. This collision caused that shelving unit to tip sideways as well and knock into the shelving unit besides it next until a domino effect had been created so that all of the shelving units that were inside of the storage room soon fell to the floor with a gigantic crash. One of the shelving units hit the vending machine, which exploded from the impact.

  BOOM! "Rosalie!" Came a cry and then Carrie was rushing through the doorway followed close behind by Chuck.

  Carrie saw Rosalie on the floor and quickly rushed over to the gloomy girl and began to help her up. "Rosalie, are you alright? What happened here??" Carrie asked out loud and then she noticed the glowing green goo that was on one of the shelves - ectoplasm. "Poltergeist." She said in a low grim tone.

  "What the hell is going on in-" Chuck began as he stepped inside the storage room. Chuck's jaw dropped as he caught sight of the toppled shelves and the still smoking vending machine. He turned to look at the shaken Rosalie who Carrie was helping to stand. "Y-Y-YOU'RE FIRED!" Chuck yelled out, spit flying out of his mouth.

  Rosalie paled. Oh no.

  Blake was nodding happily, arms crossed over his chest, and with a pleased look on his face. Perfect. "Now you can work at Wraythe Records."

  Rosalie shot Blake a glare and began to stomp out of the storage room. That stupid, meddlesome ghost had caused her to lose her job! It had been so hard for her to get a job in the first place too. Dang it! Rosalie was surprised by how angry she was.

  "Hey, Rosalie, wait up!" Carrie called after her.

  Rosalie was already heading for the sliding doors of the 7-Eleven. The Goth stopped her with a hand to her shoulder. "Rosalie!" Carrie turned Rosalie around to face her. "Are you going to be okay? I know you really needed this job."

  Of course I'm not going to be okay! I'm so screwed! But I can't tell Carrie that and cause her to worry. This is my problem. I have to handle it in my own. I know Carrie is having a hard time too. She mentioned to me that she's the one who's really supporting her family at the moment and that she has several siblings that she's responsible for. I can't even think of placing any more of a burden upon her.

  Rosalie looked up at Carrie and steeled herself, giving the witch a reassuring look. "Yea, I'll be okay. Don't worry. I'll come by and visit as soon as I can?"

  Carrie gave Rosalie a skeptical look and watched the medium leave the 7-Eleven worriedly. She had a feeling that Blake was somewhere besides her watching Rosalie leave too. "You did this, so you better take responsibility for it, buddy. Rosalie's more fragile than she acts, so you had better protect her, rockstar ghost."

  "Tch." Blake snorted at the Goth girl. Hands in the pockets of his leather pants, Blake strode out of the 7-Eleven after Rosalie?

  ***

  Rosalie had nowhere else to go and so headed back to her apartment in low spirits. She dragged her feet up the stairs dejectedly and took much longer than usual to reach her floor. Rosalie made her way down the hall and stopped in front of her apartment. She let out a heavy sigh as she put her key in the lock and unlocked the door. She stepped inside of her apartment and made her way into her small living room area, taking a seat on her threadbare couch. Blake was
floating after her every step of the way.

  "Well, look on the bright side - now you have no reason not to get a job at Wraythe Records. You'll make more money there anyways." Blake assured Rosalie.

  Rosalie ignored the ghost as she got out a newspaper, opened it to the classifieds section, and began to look at the jobs available. Tomorrow she would have to go job hunting again. She'd have to break out her 'job hunting' outfit too.

  Rosalie was feeling extremely distressed though she was doing a good job at hiding this from Blake. She couldn't have gotten fired from the 7-Eleven at a worse time - her father's hospital bills needed to be paid and so did the rent bill for her apartment?

  If she didn't get a job ASAP she'd be in deep trouble. She knew she probably had enough to cover the hospital bills but that left her with nothing to pay her rent. And if she didn't pay her rent she'd end up getting evicted from her apartment and she'd be out on the streets!

  Rosalie began to circle potential jobs with a red marker as Blake watched her, a frown forming on his handsome face.

  She had no intention of caving into Blake's selfish demands, going to Wraythe Records, and trying to get a job there. This was Blake's entire fault. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction that he had won.

  Blake was growing angry as well as he observed Rosalie's actions and realized her intentions. Just how stubborn was this girl?! Gah! He'd do his best to sabotage her job interviews tomorrow. She had to work at Wraythe Records no matter what!

  Rosalie went to bed and tossed and turned the entire night. She was extremely nervous about having to go on job interviews again the next day. She hated job interviews. Interacting with other human beings was so not her forte.

  Blake didn't need to sleep since he was a ghost now and waited until Rosalie had fallen asleep so that he could lie down on the bed next to her. He lay on his side and watched Rosalie sleep. She was a restless sleeper, tossing and turning and even crying out in her sleep. She was incredibly fun to watch. The girl was such a weirdo.

  They definitely didn't make girls like Rosalie anymore! Blake thought to himself.

  The ghost reached out and tried to touch Rosalie's head, but his hand passed into her body instead. Blake quickly snatched his hand back and frowned at it for several moments.

  The next morning, a stream of bright sunlight filtering through the half-drawn curtains of her bedroom window, awakened Rosalie. She turned on her side, to avoid the light on her face, and opened her eyes to see Blake White staring at her with those incredible lavender eyes of his.

  "AHHHHH!" She screamed.

  Blake put his fingers in his ears. "Must we do this every morning? Geez?"

  Rosalie quickly calmed herself down and glared daggers at Blake. "Perverted ghost?" She hopped out of bed and made her way to her closet to take out her job hunting suit. She turned to glare at Blake. "If you try to peek on me while I'm showering I'll give you the silent treatment again, rockstar ghost!"

  Blake yawned, and gave Rosalie a bored look with his chin in his hand. "Shouldn't you be calling me 'Master'?"

  "Gah!" Rosalie threw her arms up into the air, made her way into the bathroom, and slammed the door behind her. She knew if he really wanted to Blake could just float right through the door! Her cheeks reddened at the thought. Rosalie quickly stripped her pj's off and stepped into the slower. She took a navy shower and was done in a mere five minutes flat. She then quickly dressed in her suit.

  Rosalie washed her face, brushed her teeth and tried to tame her mass of curly black hair.

  She shrugged, gave up, and tied her hair into a tight ponytail. Lastly, she put her round, cracked glasses onto her face. She nodded at her reflection in the mirror. This was as good as it was going to get for her.

  Rosalie stepped out of the bathroom and Blake looked her over: total nerd. Rosalie was wearing a white blouse, black jacket, knee-length black skirt, and scuffed up, low-heeled black shoes. She had her glasses on and her hair in a tight ponytail. Though several curled strands had escaped and framed her face.

  Blake raised an eyebrow at the gloomy girl. She looked like a poor stewardess. "Where are you going dressed like a poor stewardess?" Blake drawled, a tinge of amusement evident in his voice.

  "Job hunting." Rosalie replied flatly.

  "Tch. Looking like that? No one is going to hire you?" Blake ran a hand back through his stylish rockstar hair. He might not even need to lift a finger in order to sabotage her job interviews after all. "Why don't you wear the Armani dress? Or one of the other Armani outfits your friend Carrie helped you to buy?" Blake asked, suddenly curious.

  Rosalie frowned. "I just don't feel comfortable in those outfits?they're not me." The medium tried to explain as she exited her bedroom and made her way into the open kitchen and living room area in order to make herself some coffee and toast for breakfast.

  Her five black cats came out and greeted Rosalie enthusiastically. "Meeowww!"

  Rosalie's expression softened at the sight and she smiled. "Good morning my darlings." Rosalie took a moment to pet and scratch her cats behind their ears before she started breakfast.

  "Five cats too many." Blake groused, eyeing the cats warily. "I hate cats?my nose is feeling itchy just looking at the little buggers?"

  "Why?" Rosalie asked absentmindedly as she made her coffee.

  "I'm allergic to cats." Blake informed her.

  "Hmmm, but it's not like you're allergic to them now, right?"

  "That remains to be seen?" Blake glared at a cat suspiciously that glared right back with his gold eyes, and flattened his ears against his head. Blake raised an eyebrow at the cat and waved his hand back and forth in front of Lucky's face.

  Lucky followed Blake's hand - turning his head from side to side. Rosalie noticed this out of the corner of her eye. "Lucky? Can you see Blake!" Rosalie went over to pick Lucky up and carried him over so that she was standing in front of Blake. Rosalie held Lucky up in front of Blake's face.

  "Stupid cat," Blake groused.

  Lucky swiped at Blake with his paw, claws out, and Blake jumped back in shock. The cat really could see him!

  "That's amazing Lucky!" Rosalie praised, petting Lucky. "You are such a good cat. You're so smart and brave trying to get rid of that big bad ghost for me?"

  "Hey!" Blake objected.

  Rosalie laughed and put Lucky down. She finished making her simple, meager breakfast and got ready to leave. She put on her ratty jacket and her shabby shoulder bag before leaving the apartment. Rosalie tried to sneakily make her way past one door in particular while trying to make as little noise as possible. However the floorboards creaked loudly under Rosalie's high heels and she flinched.

  CREAK. The door to one of the apartments was flung open and an enormous woman holding a wooden spoon that was covered in some kind of batter stepped out into the hallway. "Rosalie! Where do you think you're going? You owe me this month's rent!"

  The overweight woman was Rosalie's landlady, Diti Blackwell, and the woman she paid her rent to every month. Diti was forty-years-old and over three hundred pounds. She always wore bright floral print dresses and extravagant hats with curled feathers that went out of style decades ago.

  Rosalie did the only thing she could do - RUN! Rosalie took off running down the hall reaching the door that led to the stairs. A spoon covered in cake batter hit the doorframe as the gloomy girl opened the door and made it to the staircase. It splattered some batter onto her jacket but Rosalie didn't look back as she ran down the stairs taking them two at a time.

  "ROSALIE! YOU SKINNY LITTLE TWIT! GET YOUR BONEY BUTT BACK HERE! IF YOU DON'T PAY THE RENT BY TOMORROW I'LL EVICT YOU! YOU HEAR MEEE?" The landlady's voice shrieked after Rosalie at decibels that could shatter a wine glass.

  Blake had never seen anything so funny! He was laughing his butt off at Rosalie's plight as he floated after Rosalie as she made her way hurriedly down the stairs.

  "It's not funny!" Rosalie panted by the time
she reached the bottom of the staircase. "Is my life a joke to you?" The medium stalked out of the apartment building and made her way to the bus stop.

  Blake had stopped laughing. "No?I'm trying to help you. Your life would be better if you worked for Wraythe Records."

  "I don't want to work at Wraythe Records. Stop trying to help me?you're only making things worse!" Rosalie shot back before getting onto the bus that had just pulled up to the stop.

  Over the next few hours, Rosalie went to various job interviews with Blake floating along behind her. He remained silent as he watched her during the interviews. Blake ran a hand down his face out of frustration. This is just sad. During the job interviews Rosalie would freeze up out of nervousness and when asked a question she just didn't know how to respond due to an obvious lack of 'people skills'.

  At first, Blake was laughing his butt off at Rosalie because she was just too pathetic. But then he began to feel sorry for Rosalie and get nervous that she really wouldn't find a new job. What would happen to her then? She wouldn't really get kicked out of her apartment, right? People couldn't really do that, right? Throwing people out of their homes had to be illegal.

  Rosalie tried to ignore Blake's presence as she went on the various job interviews. She didn't know why she got so nervous during job interviews but she just did. She'd freeze up and her tongue would get all tongue-tied. Her social anxiety was really getting the better of her this time. She could hear Blake laughing at her during the first few interviews and blushed. She really was pathetic.

  After a few more interviews though Blake had stopped laughing. Rosalie turned to look at him questioningly and saw him frowning accusingly at her. Like this was all her fault?

  "What the hell were you doing back there? If you continue to act like this you won't get a new job!" Blake chided as she left a coffee shop where she had been trying to get hired as a part-time worker.

  "I thought you didn't want me to get a new job?" Rosalie shot back.

  Blake scratched his head out of frustration. "Gah! Why are you so?stubborn! Why don't you just speak normally to those people?"

  "I?just can't!" Rosalie hung her head in despair. It was just so difficult talking to people?

  Blake let out a frustrated little huff. "You're speaking with me normally right now, so I don't see how speaking with them would be any different!"

  "I-!" Rosalie paused and sucked in a breath. Blake was right. She was able to speak with him easily and carry on a conversation as if it were normal. Why was that? Why could she talk so effortlessly and just be herself around Blake? It was a mystery. "I dunno?"

  Poor Rosalie failed all of her job interviews that day and had no choice but to return home, dejected and empty handed. She fed her cats and made herself an instant ramen noodle soup for dinner before falling into her bed completely exhausted and feeling spent.

  "A ramen soup? That's all you're eating?" Blake asked.

  She offered no response.

  Rosalie woke up the next morning to see Blake's face but she didn't even have the energy to scream. She just listlessly got out of bed like a zombie and headed to the bathroom.

  Blake noticed Rosalie's flushed cheeks and was worried about her. Was she sick? Did she have a fever? He couldn't even touch her forehead to check?dang it?

  Rosalie showered, washed her face, brushed her teeth and put her job hunting outfit on again. This was it. If she didn't manage to get a job today she wouldn't have the money to pay the rent for the apartment.

  She'd lose her home.

  More importantly, her cats would lose their home?

  Rosalie made coffee, toast, and fed her cats. Then she was out the door and sneaking past Mrs. Blackwell's apartment. She tiptoed past the apartment with Blake floating behind her. She let out a breath of relief once she had made it safely past. "Phew." Rosalie then made her way to the door that led to the stairs.

  Rosalie opened the door and stepped inside, only to be confronted by Mrs. Blackwell's husband - Fred Blackwell. Yes, it was a mystery but Mrs. Blackwell was indeed married. Her husband was a scrawny, pale, 40-year old man with a balding head of hair. He looked a little like a scarecrow.

  "Hello Rosalie." Mr. Blackwell greeted her with a wide smile showing off his crooked, yellow teeth.

  "Epp!" Rosalie let out a squeak of surprise. "Mr. Blackwell!"

  Mr. Blackwell licked his chapped lips. "Were you trying to sneak past our apartment again? The rent is due today, you know." Mr. Blackwell's glassy eyes looked Rosalie over from head to toe.

  Rosalie sighed. "Please, just give me one more day. I'm going to try and get a job today. I know that today I will succeed. I'll do my best." Rosalie pleaded, giving Mr. Blackwell a beseeching look.

  "We both know that won't happen, Rosalie. It's too late. But?perhaps we can make some kind of deal." Mr. Blackwell offered as he began to rub his hands together.

  "Deal?" Rosalie sounded hopeful.

  Blake crossed his arms over his chest and glared daggers at Mr. Blackwell. He didn't trust this sleaze ball one bit. He definitely didn't like the way this old man was looking at Rosalie either. Just what was he up to??

  "Mmhmm." Mr. Blackwell stepped closer to Rosalie so that he was only about a foot away from her. "If you can't pay me normally?I'll let you pay with your body." Mr. Blackwell breathed and his foul breath washed over Rosalie's face causing her to back up against the wall. Mr. Blackwell stepped even closer, cornering her.

  Rosalie's eyes went wide like saucers. "What?but Mr. Blackwell, you're married." The gloomy girl made a helpless gesture with her hands as if she couldn't understand what was going on. "How could you??!"

  Mr. Blackwell let out a cackling laugh. "To that cow?! I haven't slept with her for the last 20 years! But you?" Mr. Blackwell looked Rosalie over, his eyes lingering on her curves. "Are young and fresh, aren't you? So skinny?I like skinny girls?" Mr. Blackwell put his hands on Rosalie's slim waist and began to trail his clammy hands up towards Rosalie's chest. "What do you say? Do we have a deal, my pretty?"

  Rosalie was trembling. "No?don't touch me?please?"

  "Freakin pervert! Let her go! Rosalie, slap him! Hit him! Come on - REACT!" Blake shouted at her.

  Mr. Blackwell grabbed Rosalie and began to fondle her. "You have such nice assets. This is going to be so good?" He purred in a slimy voice.

  Tears began to fill Rosalie's ice-blue eyes.

  "Oh, come on! Screw this!" Blake dove into Rosalie's body and quickly took control of her.

  When 'Rosalie' opened her eyes they were now a pale lavender color. Blake took Rosalie's glasses off and stuck them in her jacket pocket. The singer then took Rosalie's hair out of her scrunchie so that it hung in wild curls around her shoulders.

  Blake glared at Mr. Blackwell, and reached out to grab Mr. Blackwell's wrist. He then began to bend Mr. Blackwell's wrist backwards. "Freakin pervert. What the hell do you think you're doing to your tenant? I should call the cops on you pig." Blake snarled as he continued to bend Mr. Blackwell's wrist back and away from Rosalie's chest.

  "Ahhh?Rosalie? Wait, please stop?it hurts." Mr. Blackwell moaned pathetically, his voice cracking.

  "Did you stop when I asked you to? When I begged? I don't think so. So why should I give you the same courtesy?" Blake continued to bend Mr. Blackwell's wrist back until-

  CRACK. Mr. Blackwell howled in pain, as his wrist was broken. "AHHH!"

  Blake didn't stop there as he let go of Mr. Blackwell's wrist and kneed the landlord in the groin.

  POW. Mr. Blackwell clutched his crotch with his two hands and groaned in pain.

  "I should push this jerk down the stairs?" Blake mused, however - he was suddenly forced out of Rosalie's body.

  Rosalie - who had seen everything that was happening like a bystander - quickly went to kneel at Mr. Blackwell's side. She reached her hand out to him, a concerned look on her face. "Mr. Blackwell, are you okay?"

  Mr. Blackwell's eyes widened in fear and h
e smacked Rosalie's hand away. "Don't touch me, you crazy girl. Crap?" Mr. Blackwell stumbled out the door and fled down the hall back to his apartment.

  Rosalie frowned as she watched him go. This wasn't good but?she had no choice but to go on the job interviews she had scheduled for that day, and try to get a job. And she was going to be late if she tried to explain herself to Mrs. Blackwell.

  Blake had his arms crossed over his sculpted chest and was giving Rosalie an expectant look. "Your welcome."

  Rosalie just glared at Blake. "I already told you - your 'help' isn't helping?stupid ghost?" Rosalie spun around to go down the stairs and her head spun. She felt woozy all of a sudden, and put a hand to her burning forehead as she tried to stay conscious.

  "Rosalie!" Blake called out in concern, seeing that Rosalie was about to faint and she was dangerously close to the edge of the stairs. If she fell - she'd die.

  Blake reached out and his hand oddly passed right through her. What the? Why can't I possess her? Crap. "ROSALIE! Snap out of it! The stairs!"

  Rosalie shook her head and took a deep breath. She blinked as she tried to steady her vision. The gloomy girl grabbed the handrail and began to stubbornly make her way down the stairs. "Shut up?stupid ghost?just leave me alone?"

  "Like hell I will!" Blake grumbled as he floated after Rosalie.

  Rosalie miraculously made it to the bus stop, took the bus, and began to go on more job interviews. She wouldn't give up! She HAD to get a job or else her cats would be out on the street! They were her responsibility. They were the only good thing in her life.

  Rosalie made an effort to be more personable during the interviews, but she could tell that they were looking for someone more outgoing than she was - louder - than the soft-spoken Rosalie. She frowned at the thought.

  Blake stayed by Rosalie's side the entire day and gave her his silent support. "Just picture these stuck-up jerks in their underwear. That might help." Blake suggested jokingly.

  But Rosalie was in no mood for jokes and barely heard Blake. The medium finally finished her final interview, which sadly hadn't gone very well since Rosalie wasn't feeling so good at that point. She began her trek towards the bus stop, dragging her feet. It had been a lonngggg day. Rosalie took the bus 'home'. She walked the couple of blocks left to her apartment building, entered, and went up the stairs warily keeping an eye out for her perverted landlord. Rosalie exited the staircase on her floor and began to make her way down the hallway with Blake floating besides her.

  Rosalie stopped abruptly when she saw that all of her belongings had been thrown out of her apartment and were currently scattered about the hallway in front of her apartment door - her clothes, underwear, books, toiletries from her bathroom were there for all to see.

  Rosalie gasped and raised a hand in front of her mouth. Her immediate concern was for her cats. She noticed her only luggage was out in the hall and so was her large pet carrier. "Lucky! Percy! Spottie! Luna! Dulce!" Rosalie cried as she rushed over to the pet carrier and peered inside.

  "Phew." Rosalie let out a breath of relief. Her five black cats were inside of the pet carrier, huddled together. "My poor babies?I'm glad you're alright." Rosalie stood up and looked at her apartment door - there was an Eviction Notice taped to the door. Rosalie got out her key and tried the lock. The door wouldn't open. Mr. Blackwell had probably had the lock changed while she was gone.

  The medium sighed heavily, and her shoulders slumped. This was Blake White's fault?if she could have just reasoned with Mr. Blackwell instead of resorting to violence?maybe she'd still have a home! Rosalie opened her luggage and began to toss her belongings inside. She paused as she picked up a picture frame. The glass was broken but the picture was still intact:

  It was a photo of Rosalie and her mother and father - back when they were still together. Back when they were still one big happy family. They all wore smiles on their faces and looked happy.

  Broken glass?broken family?broken life?

  Tears filled Rosalie's eyes and silently began to fall on the broken picture frame. She had never felt so utterly?alone.

  Blake was taken aback, upon seeing Rosalie's belongings thrown around the hallway like trash. The sight of her five cats inside of a small pet carrier and the broken picture frame of her family stirred something within Blake. A feeling that he had never felt before. At first Blake thought it was just anger but it was something else. Blake understood that this entire situation was his fault. He had destroyed this young girl's life because of his selfishness. Blake didn't know it but he was feeling guilty.

  Blake floated over to Rosalie and reached out a transparent hand towards her shoulder. He opened his mouth to do something Blake White had never done - apologize. "Look, Rosalie, I'm sorry, I-"

  But Rosalie cut him off as she spun around to glare at Blake heatedly. "No, you're not. This is exactly what you wanted isn't it, Blake? You wanted to destroy my life! Well, you succeeded! I hate you?just leave me alone?" Rosalie said as she put the picture frame into the luggage and snapped the luggage closed.

  Rosalie picked up the pet carrier in her left hand and with her right she wheeled her luggage down the hall. She didn't look back as she left the apartment that had been her home for sixteen years behind her.

  With absolutely no place to go and no one to turn to for help, Rosalie could only think of one place to go. Rosalie left the apartment building, pissed off at Blake, and made her way down the street with purposeful steps.

  "Hey! Rosalie! Wait up! Where are you going? Do you have a friend you're going to stay with?" Blake asked her as he floated along behind her.

  Rosalie did not respond and continued stomping her way down the street. She walked for about an hour until she finally reached an isolated area beneath an overpass bridge. Rosalie had seen people camping out beneath this bridge before and figured if they could do it, why couldn't she? Besides, the overpass bridge would keep the rain off of her incase the weather turned sour.

  Rosalie rolled her luggage under the overpass bridge and set her pet carrier down on the ground. The medium opened her luggage and got out a bag of Purina Cat Chow before sitting down to make herself comfortable. She then began to pass kibbles to her cats inside the kennel through the grated door.

  Blake looked around the area curiously; being beneath the overpass bridge would ensure that they would be sheltered from the rain in case the weather turned bad. But Rosalie was probably just resting and had some other destination in mind, right? She couldn't actually be considering living under this bridge, right?!

  Blake sat down next to Rosalie, Indian style. "Hey?it's getting late. Where are you planning to go? Shouldn't you keep going before it gets too late? It's dangerous."

  Rosalie sighed, wrapped her arms around her legs, and rested her chin on her knees as she looked at her cats. "We're not going anywhere?this is home now?"

  Blake's eye widened. "You have got to be kidding me! Don't you have someone you can stay with? A relative? A friend? What about Carrie?"

  "Carrie's house is already crammed tight with her large family. She has two younger sisters and two younger brothers. Carrie's Catholic alcoholic mother and deadbeat, gambling, father abandoned them, leaving Carrie with their debts, so she's working two jobs to support the family already. I couldn't possibly ask her for help?" Rosalie explained cryptically.

  "I see?" Blake had no idea the Goth witch had it so tough. She was always smiling. He felt like crap. This was all his fault.

  Rosalie took out the cell phone Blake had given her and turned it on so that she could see what time it was. It read: 9:05 PM. It was going to be a long night?

  Rosalie sighed heavily. The medium was homeless because of that damned rockstar ghost!

  Blake realized he had to do something. Had to help. It wasn't safe for a girl like Rosalie to be out here on the streets?

  But what could he do? Blake was a loss. He was dead. He couldn't use his credit cards or go to the bank and make a withd
rawal. His Visa Black Card was just a useless piece of plastic (or wasn't it made out of carbon?) Whatever. Blake shook his head, not really giving a shit if his Visa Black Card was lighter than most regular credit cards or not at the moment.

  The only option Blake could think of was getting Rosalie to go to Wraythe Records. He'd get her hired by the company somehow. Mr. Wraythe was a good man. He would hire Rosalie and help her. Blake was sure of this.

  The hours continued to crawl by as Blake and Rosalie sat side by side under the bridge. The ghost could feel the awkward tension between them and it felt suffocating. It wasn't long before Blake just had to break the silence. "Rosalie?I-" Blake began to speak. However-

  Blake got this tingling sensation on the back of his neck making the hair there stand on end. His fighter's instincts told him that there was danger! Crap! "Look out, Rosalie!" Blake lunged at Rosalie and went right into her body. He managed to push Rosalie's body to the ground just in time as a shot rang out.

  Bang! That had been a gunshot or maybe even a rifle shot!

  "Crap!" Blake quickly stood up and ran?

  More shots were fired and bullets imbedded themselves into the cement of the overpass bridge where Rosalie had been seated only moments before! Blake ran out from under the bridge and down the street, but when more shots were fired he threw himself down on the side of the road.

  "Screw this! Someone's trying to kill Rosalie! Frickin jerk! Arghhh!" Blake stood up, took Rosalie's glasses off, folded them, and put them into her jeans pocket. He took Rosalie's hair out of her ponytail and began to run in the direction that he estimated the shots had come from.

  Bang! Bang! Bang!

  Blake used his well-honed fighter's instincts to be able to dodge the bullets and pinpoint where the sniper was by using the bullets' trajectories as a guide. Blake ran up a grassy slope that was on the side of the road, and once he had reached the top he spotted the sniper.

  The sniper was dressed in dark green, dark brown and tan camouflage from head to toe. He had a full facemask and a pair of night vision goggles on his head. He was lying on the ground with a sniper rifle's scope to his eye. The sniper saw Blake charging him in disbelief and leapt to his feet. He smoothly pulled out a gun, which he aimed at Blake.

  But Blake was faster. He hit the man's left wrist with his left fist and sent a punch flying into the man's face with his right.

  POW! The assassin pulled out another handgun with his right hand next. Blake executed a roundhouse kick and sent the gun flying from the assassin's hand. The assassin was now bringing up his left hand and gun to point it at Blake again.

  Blake got into a fighting stance, prepared to meet his attacker head on. However, Blake's vision suddenly began to swirl. He felt dizzy and felt himself falling backwards to the grassy ground. Crap!

  And Blake fell right out of Rosalie's body, rolling across the grassy ground.

  Rosalie landed on her butt, blinked, and stared up at the assassin who was now pointing a gun at her forehead. Rosalie's eyes went wide. Blake!

  "Where's the phone?" The assassin asked in a gravelly voice.

  "What?I don't know what you're talking about?" Rosalie murmured.

  "Blake White's phone. Where is it? Don't play dumb with me girl. I know you have it." The assassin began to pull down on the trigger.

  Eppp! Blake's phone? Rosalie realized that she did indeed have it. It was inside of her luggage. The evidence that Blake White's suicide was actually a murder! I'm going to die! Rosalie thought.

  No! Rosalie! Blake thought, panicking. However-

  A whirring sound filled the air as a weighted chain shot through the air and knocked the gun out of the assassin's hand with a clang.

  The assassin reacted quickly, grabbed the chain, and held it.

  Rosalie and Blake both turned to see who was on the other side of that chain. It was the familiar sight of a man dressed in a black ninja outfit with a full facemask that revealed just his fierce, dark eyes. A sword was strapped to his back, a dagger was strapped to his belt, and various other weapons appeared to be strapped to his body with leather straps such as sai and shuriken. The weapon he held in his two hands was a kusari gama - a chain-sickle.

  "Yoshida-sensei." Blake breathed.

  The assassin and Yoshida struggled against each other's hold and then Yoshida flicked the chain outwards towards the assassin in such a way that he 'tied' the assassin's wrist and effectively captured him.

  Yoshida pulled on the chain and the assassin had no choice but to move forward towards Yoshida. In seconds the martial arts instructor was holding the sickle to the assassin's throat. "Who sent you?" Yoshida demanded in a low, threatening voice with a thick Japanese accent.

  "I would die before I ever gave him up." The assassin snarled and reached into his jacket. He tossed a smoke grenade after removing the pin, and Yoshida was forced to leap backwards relinquishing his advantage over the assassin as a cloud of smoke appeared in front of him. "This isn't over. I will be back."

  "Kisama! Jerk!" Yoshida rushed through the cloud of smoke and slashed his sickle-like weapon through the air but hit nothing. A few moments later the smoke cleared to reveal that the assassin had escaped. Yoshida lowered his weapon and then turned to face Rosalie.

  Rosalie was trembling like a leaf. First, a man dressed in a camouflage outfit had tried to kill her and now a ninja had popped up out of nowhere. Yoshida stalked towards Rosalie and her life flashed before her eyes. She couldn't take any more of this and so she fainted.

  "Ah! Rosalie. Geez, look what you did, sensei." Blake reprimanded, even though Yoshida couldn't hear or see him.

  "Oh dear?" Yoshida acted chagrined as he scratched the back of his head and looked down at the unconscious Rosalie. He noticed her flushed cheeks and irregular breathing before kneeling down besides her. He took his glove off and touched Rosalie's forehead with his hand. She was burning up. Yoshida shook his head.

  The martial artist bent low and picked Rosalie up into his arms. He began to carry her over to her belongings. He laid her down under the overpass bridge and went to get his BMW. A few minutes later Yoshida was pulling his black BMW right in front of Rosalie, her belongings, and her cats. Yoshida put Rosalie into his car first before putting the pet carrier into the backseat next to Rosalie.

  Blake had taken a seat next to Rosalie and had to move even closer to her as Yoshida put the pet carrier inside of the car. "Geez, sensei, a little room?"

  Yoshida put Rosalie's luggage into the trunk and then spotted the cell phone on the ground. He went over to pick the phone up and quickly brought up the message inbox. His eyes widened as he read the text messages that Rosalie and Blake had exchanged mere minutes before his reported time of death.

  Yoshida put the cell phone into his pocket before moving to the driver's side door and getting inside. He began to drive away, leaving the overhang bridge behind them.

  "So now you go around kidnapping little girls, sensei? Tch?" Blake groused. "Where are you taking her, anyways?"

  There was of course no response.

  Blake crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. It really sucked when people couldn't see or hear you!

  Yoshida decided to take Rosalie to his dojo - a martial arts training hall - where he taught martial arts. He taught mixed martial arts such as: karate, jujutsu, aikido, and muay thai. Many years ago, when Yoshida had been living in Japan he had been known as 'Yoshida the Weapons Master' and had been an assassin of great repute, but?his sword had grown heavy. Heavy with the blood of all those he had killed. He wanted to escape from that bloody lifestyle and had retired, deciding to teach martial arts instead. He had put his ninja assassin outfit away?until tonight.

  Yoshida took Rosalie, her black cats, and her belongings into the dojo hall. It was a large open space with shining wood floors. This was where Yoshida's students would practice their martial arts routines, kata, and spar against each other.

  Yoshida set up a futon for
Rosalie on the dojo floor to sleep upon and set the girl gently down upon the mattress. He put her luggage and pet crate near her. The martial arts instructor then left the dojo and exited through a door that led to his living quarters. He returned a few minutes later with a pail of ice water and a towel. He placed a cool, wet towel on Rosalie's forehead to attempt to lower her fever.

  When Yoshida heard Rosalie's stomach rumble he left the dojo again, this time to prepare the girl some food. He decided he would prepare a simple beef stir-fry with vegetables and steamed rice to bring up the girl's strength.

  Thirty minutes later, the smell of good food caused Rosalie to stir. She slowly awoke and sat up on the futon groggily. She turned her head to her right and her eyes widened at the sight before her:

  Yoshida had set up a low table for Rosalie and was currently scooping a helping of rice into a small bowl. A plate of steaming stir-fry was already sitting on the table. Next to the plate were two chopsticks.

  Yoshida turned to regard Rosalie. "Ah, you're awake, young lady. Please help yourself." The weapons master waved a hand at the food.

  Rosalie frowned and hesitated - but then her stomach let out a loud rumble causing her to blush. "O-Okay." Rosalie reluctantly agreed and moved towards the table. She looked at the chopsticks and picked them up, not sure how to use them.

  "Ah, have you never used chopsticks before, oujo-chan? Allow me to show you?" Yoshida reached out and helped Rosalie to hold the chopsticks properly. His hands were gentle.

  "T-T-Thank you." Rosalie managed to get out. This man wasn't nearly as scary as she originally thought. Now that he had his facemask off Rosalie was able to get a better look of him as well. He had sharp black eyes, tan skin, a scar that went down vertically over his left eye and a scar that went over his nose horizontally. His hair was cut short and was mostly black expect for a little gray here and there. There were age lines around the man's eyes making Rosalie think that he was probably somewhere around her father's age. Rosalie concentrated on picking up a piece of beef and stuck it into her mouth. The taste of succulent, marinated beef hit her taste buds delightfully. Rosalie smiled. "Delicious."

  Yoshida nodded. "Good. Eat everything on your plate. You're anemic or perhaps just malnourished. Afterwards, we'll talk."

  "O-Okay." Rosalie ate quietly while Yoshida sat nearby and patiently waited for Rosalie to finish her meal.

  During her meal, Rosalie watched Yoshida curiously since he had taken a seat on the floor and gotten into a meditative pose with his eyes closed. After she finished eating she cleared her throat and Yoshida opened his eyes.

  Yoshida moved closer to the table and served Rosalie some green tea. "Now, oujo-chan, we talk. I would like to know what your relationship to Blake White was."

  Rosalie had been taking a small tip of the Jasmine green tea and ended up spitting it out at the question. "What? Relationship?" Rosalie sputtered. "I don't know what you mean?"

  Yoshida took out Blake's smart phone and waved it at Rosalie. He turned the phone on and began to read the text messages that Rosalie and Blake had exchanged.

  Rosalie blushed. They sounded so?suggestive! With Blake calling her his 'slave' and she calling him 'master'! Rosalie gripped her head in her hands in horror. Ah, how embarrassing! I just want to crawl into a hole and die. But Rosalie needed to explain things clearly. "It's?not what you think. Blake saved me from some men and said that because of that I owed him one. That's why I was going to be his slave, and not that kind of slave either. Blake was a gentleman. He wanted me to become his 'Girl Friday' or something like that. I was going to run errands, cook and clean for him. That's what those text messages were about."

  "When exactly did Blake save you?" Yoshida asked.

  "Blake saved me on October 11, sometime after midnight." Rosalie answered.

  "Just a couple hours before Blake was murdered then." Yoshida nodded in thought. "Blake's time of death was October 11 at 1:30 AM. And the last text message you received from Blake was at 1:15 AM. You were the last person to communicate with Blake White before his death. This text message contains his last words upon the Earth. Did he seem like he wanted to kill himself?" Yoshida asked, looking at Rosalie intently.

  Rosalie shook her head.

  "That's because Blake White was murdered that Friday morning by someone. That very same someone knows about you and this cell phone. They probably tracked you down using the phone's GPS." Yoshida gripped the cell phone in his one hand and suddenly crushed it to pieces.

  "Ah!" Rosalie objected as she watched the pieces of cell phone fall to the dojo floor. That cell phone had contained Blake's last words to her. That phone was her last real connection to Blake. Rosalie shook her head. It had contained evidence.

  "It's too risky to keep this phone in your possession, oujo-chan. The person who killed Blake White knows that you know it was no suicide. They hired a professional assassin to kill you and to get ride of all the evidence. They will try to find you again. Your life is in danger?but if you stay here with me I can protect you." Yoshida declared. "My name is Ren Yoshida and I was Blake White's martial arts teacher. You can trust me." The weapons master puffed up his chest.

  "Tch. Show off." Blake complained.

  "How did you find me, Mr. Yoshida?" Rosalie asked Yoshida curiously.

  "Ever since the funeral, I've been keeping an eye on you." Yoshida admitted.

  Rosalie blinked. "I see."

  "Stalker?" Blake coughed.

  Yoshida patted Rosalie on the head. "Go to sleep and rest well, oujo-chan. You are safe now." Yoshida declared as he stood up.

  "Yes, thank you, Yoshida-sensei." Rosalie replied absentmindedly, having gotten used to Blake calling Yoshida 'sensei'.

  Yoshida had been heading towards the door that led to his quarters but turned around to regard Rosalie for a moment. How had this young woman known the Japanese word for 'teacher' without him having ever said anything? Yoshida shrugged and continued his way out of the training hall heading to his room.

  Rosalie looked around the dojo curiously after she had been left alone. "What a strange place?"

  "It's a 'dojo'. A martial arts training hall. This is where Yoshida-sensei gives martial arts classes." Blake explained, being oddly helpful.

  Rosalie noticed some framed photographs hanging on the far wall and stood up. She walked over to look at the photographs and saw Yoshida-sensei without his black ninja outfit, but instead wearing a white haori (wrap shirt), black hakama (split pants), and sandals. In the photo he was surrounded by a group of smiling students - both young and old.

  Yoshida-sensei seemed really?happy in the photograph with his younger students. Rosalie noticed the gray in his hair?he was probably the same age as her father?

  If Rosalie stayed here it would only be putting Yoshida-sensei in danger. The person who killed Blake wanted her dead to 'cover his tracks' and to get rid of all the evidence that Blake's murder was not a suicide.

  If Rosalie stayed there Yoshida-sensei would end up fighting the assassin again - risking his life for her sake. She couldn't allow that.

  Rosalie made her way over to her luggage and pet carrier. She picked up the pet carrier with her left hand, and pulled the handle on her luggage open with her right hand, so that she could wheel her luggage.

  Blake's eyes widened in surprise. "Hey! Where the hell do you think you're going?! Yoshida-sensei said you could stay here. You'll be safe here."

  Rosalie did not respond as she left the dojo as silently as possible. Once she was walking down the sidewalk, alone, she responded to Blake. "I can't stay there?Yoshida-sensei will be put in danger because of me?"

  Blake gave Rosalie a look of disbelief. "Tch. Are you an idiot? Yoshida-sensei was probably using you as bait to find my killer. Yoshida-sensei can take care of himself. Where do you plan on going?! HA?"

  "I don't know?the subway perhaps." Rosalie shrugged and replied in a droning tone.

  Blake slapped a hand to his
forehead and sighed. "Stupid, stubborn, beggar girl?not accepting anyone's help. I'm sick of wandering around the streets. I miss my penthouse suite?" Blake suddenly stopped pouting and stroked his chin in thought. "My penthouse suite. I wonder?Rosalie, I have an idea." Blake declared with a gleam in his eyes.

  Rosalie turned to face the floating ghost curiously. "What is it?"

  "I don't know if it's been sealed off or if it's been rented out to someone else already but?it's worth a shot. I know the pass code and if that hasn't been changed?argh?" Blake ruffled his hair. "We don't have any other option but to try this! Listen up. I rent one of the two available one-bedroom penthouse suites at the Chateau Marmont Hotel. Let's go there and see if you can get into my penthouse. If so, you can stay there." Blake declared.

  "The Chateau Marmont Hotel?" Rosalie echoed.

  Rosalie had certainly heard of the Chateau Marmont Hotel but had never been there. A beggar girl like her couldn't be more 'out of place' in a place like that. But she didn't really have much of a choice. She had to find a place to stay so that she could take her cats out of the pet carrier. Rosalie found herself nodding in agreement. "Alright, Mr. Rockstar Ghost, lead the way."

  A wry smile formed on Blake's handsome face. "Now we're talking."

  Blake and Rosalie ended up having to take the bus to 8221 Sunset Boulevard, West Hollywood. Rosalie followed Blake up the street and Chateau Marmont came into view. To her it looked just like a fairytale castle with its white exterior, gray-blue roofs, and gothic architecture. With a haughty tone, Blake informed her that the place had been loosely modeled after the Chateau d'Amboise, a royal retreat in France.

  "Lindsey Lohan was recently staying here." Blake boasted. "I heard she owes the place some money but it's chump change. She's an incredible actress. Anthony Kiedis singer of the band the Red Hot Chili Peppers recorded the vocals for his song 'By the Way' here. And British singer Lilly Allen wrote one of the songs for her second album here. But more importantly rockstar Blake White has come up with lyrics for some of the songs Devon has composed here."

  Rosalie's steps became stiff and robotic-like as she approached the entrance to the hotel. "What do I do?" Rosalie asked, nervously.

  "Don't worry, beggar girl. Just do exactly what I tell you. Now, to be a part of the world of celebrities the most important thing is: attitude. I want you to enter that hotel like you own the place. Keep your back straight and your chin up, now go!" Blake motioned dramatically with his hand towards the front door.

  Rosalie nodded and took a deep breath before rolling her luggage behind her and towards the entrance door. A doorman was there to open the door for her and Rosalie didn't even make eye contact as she strode confidently inside of the hotel. There was a reception desk but Rosalie ignored this as well and headed directly towards the elevator that Blake was floating towards. Rosalie pressed the elevator summoning button and the elevator arrived in a minute. She stepped inside and wheeled her luggage in after her. She pressed the button for the 7th floor. The elevator doors closed and Rosalie let out a breath of relief.

  She put a hand to her chest. Her heart was beating a mile a minute. She turned to give Blake a grateful look. "I can't believe I just did that."

  Blake was nodding to himself. "You did good, beggar girl. Just keep up with that snooty attitude here and you'll be fine."

  The door opened upon the seventh floor and Rosalie stepped out and chewed on her lower lip, unsure of where to go next.

  "Don't worry, beggar girl, my penthouse is the first door on your right. Room 701." Blake said. "Most of the other rooms use keys but I had a digital door lock put in. The pass code is: O708. My birthday." Blake informed her and crossed his fingers behind his back. If someone else was renting the penthouse suite then the pass code would be different.

  Rosalie walked towards the door and stopped in front of it. Sure enough there was a digital door lock next to the door. She punched in the code and held her breath. The door unlocked and Rosalie was able to push it open. Rosalie let out a breath of relief.

  She walked inside, rolling her luggage behind her, and carrying her pet carrier. Blake floated in after her as she shut the door. The door automatically locked behind them. Rosalie flipped on a light switch and Blake's apartment was illuminated in all its luxurious glory.

  The penthouse suite was spacious and had an open living room and kitchen to make the main room seem even more spacious. The balcony could be seen from the living room. The penthouse had come with appliances from the 50s but Blake had updated a few of them with higher end ones.

  The d?cor was very modern with a black, white and silver color theme. Blake had purchased some expensive leather couches to glam up the living room and had situated them around a low, glass table that was in front of a huge, flat screen TV and home entertainment center. Also in the entertainment center was a high-tech CD player with large speakers. There were shelving units filled with hundreds of CDs, and old records that were part of an expensive and valuable collection. In the dinning room area there was a long, rectangular-shaped table that could seat six people. Above the dinning table hung a modern, bronze chandelier that looked like twisting vines with leaves.

  The open kitchen had the latest high-tech, chrome appliances, marble counters, the best fridge currently available, a nice four burner stove, automatic dishwasher, pale blue cabinets, and a kitchen island. There was a mini bar with an impressive collection of expensive booze in the living room. Off to the right side of the living room was a drum set, an electric guitar, a bass guitar and a diamond-encrusted microphone stuck into a microphone stand.

  Blake had an impressive collection of rock posters hanging on his walls: a Rolling Stones poster with a pair of dice on it, an The Offspring poster that was black, red and yellow and had their logo of a skull with flames on top of its head, a Green Day poster with psychedelic colors and the guitarist on it, a Sex Pistols poster that was black and white and that had a picture of the Queen of England on it and the words: God Save the Queen - Sex Pistols, a Led Zeppelin poster with an avocado with eyes on it, a Tom Petty poster that read: 'Wanted Tom Petty: Heartbreakers', a Pink Floyd poster with a flying pig on it, a Red Hot Chili Peppers poster with a grinning green demon eating a chili pepper, and an old Beatles poster.

  Blake had fun, interesting, rock-themed knickknacks and memorabilia such as coffee mugs, pillows, and coasters that featured the following famous rockstars: Freddie Mercury from the band: Queen, Mick Jagger from The Rolling Stones, Kurt Cobain from Nirvana, Jim Morrison from The Doors, Paul McCartney from The Beatles, Elvis, Bon Jovi, U2, Elton John, Billy Joel, Beach Boys, Jimmy Page, Jimi Hendrix, Grateful Dead, Steven Tyler from Aerosmith, Pat Beretar, Blondie, and Stevie Nicks.

  Blake's penthouse was a rockstar's paradise. It truly fit the image for the abode of the popular young American rockstar, Blake White, who had managed to earn the title of 'Prince of Punk Rock'. Rosalie saw that there were large blown up photos, and even oil paintings of Blake hanging on the walls. Blake's face was also on pillows, lamps, bobble heads, and ashtrays.

  Rosalie had to admit the expensive furniture and rock-themed accessories impressed her, but she frowned when she noticed that there were no photos of friends or family. It made the truly impressive apartment feel?cold. Rosalie wrapped her arms around her body unconsciously.

  Blake watched intently as Rosalie looked around his apartment. He felt his chest well up with pride. This was his amazing penthouse and his treasured belongings - who he was.

  "Pretty impressive, huh?" Blake ran his hand back through his rockstar hair. "I had the famous interior designer Laura Day help me out. It cost a few million to get it looking like this. The penthouse suite rents for $150,000 a year. That 71-inch LG flat screen TV is decorated with 24-carat gold and cost me $76,860." Blake began to brag out his possessions.

  Rosalie had to admit to herself it was like a palace. She had never seen something so incredible but?it didn't feel like home. There were no
pictures of family or friends or even pets?it felt like a Blake White museum. And now that Blake White was dead that's exactly what this place was. A museum. A shrine.

  Rosalie knew the rockstar had been relatively close to his band mates so it was strange that there weren't pictures of them around the apartment. Had the ghost really been so egocentric?

  "It's cold." Rosalie said gloomily as she entered further into the living room and set down her pet carrier.

  Blake's jaw dropped and hit the floor. "Hah? That's all you have to say? By 'cold' you mean?cool, right? Awesome? Spectacular?"

  Blake watched as Rosalie ignored him and bent down to open the door to her pet carrier. "Ah, you can't actually be thinking of letting those cats out into MY apartment, can you? Wait-!"

  Rosalie ignored Blake and opened the grated door.

  "MEOWWW!" Rosalie's five black cats flew out of the pet carrier - incredibly happy to finally be free. The cats immediately began to run around the apartment and explore as cats tend to do.

  Lucky began to climb Blake's entertainment center and began to knock CDs all over the floor.

  "Ah! Not my CDs! Get away from there, you stupid cat! Not my record collection - some of those are one of a kind! They're worth thousands of dollars!" Blake shouted as he made a grab for Lucky. But Blake's hand passed right through the cat.

  Lucky seemed to smile mischievously at Blake and knocked off a few more CDs with a swipe of his paw seemingly on purpose!

  "Evil cat!" Blake growled, a fiery aura surrounding him.

  Percy ran over to the couch and flexed his paws before beginning to sharpen his claws on Blake's expensive black leather sofa.

  Blake's eyes widened in horror. "Nooo! Not my Fritz Hansen PK31 series sofa! I spent $28,990 for that set!"

  Dulce was looking around for a liter box and since she couldn't find one decided that Blake's Persian carpet, value: $1.3 million, would have to do.

  Blake watched Dulce taking a dump on his Persian carpet and felt faint. "Ah! J-j-just what does that cat think it's doing?!"

  Rosalie snorted as she held back a laugh. Luna had a penchant for exploring strange places and somehow managed to get inside a white and blue antique vase - it toppled over and crashed to the floor.

  "Ah! My Yuan Dynasty vase, which I purchased for $1.2 million!" Blake moaned putting his face in his hands.

  He looked around to see where the last cat - Spottie - was. The cat was nowhere to be seen. Blake had a bad feeling about this?

  Did I lock my bedroom door before I kicked the bucket? Blake ran for his bedroom and burst inside.

  Sure enough, Spottie was having fun tearing Blake's down pillows apart and chasing feathers which were now floating all around his previously immaculate room. She had already started to sharpen her claws on Blake's Vividus mattress, value: $59,750.

  "NOOO!" Blake sunk to his knees and hung his head in despair. Crazed laughter began to bubble up inside of him until he began to laugh loudly. "Ahahaha!" His apartment?his beautiful apartment?his sanctuary?his palace?was under siege by an army of demonic creatures!

  Rosalie walked over to stand next to Blake and smiled at the chaos Spottie was making. Rosalie let out a sigh of relief. "Ah, much better. It feels like home now." Rosalie looked around Blake's room curiously. There was a huge four-poster bed with navy blue and black sheets. Next to the bed on either side were two bedside tables. Inside of the room there was a massage chair with all the fun vibration settings. The bedroom even had its own TV and music player. There were more photos of Blake hanging on the walls and shots of Blake taken from various concerts.

  Rosalie frowned. But there were no group shots of Blake and his band mates from concerts. She couldn't help but find that odd. Once again the room was devoid of photos of friends and family.

  Blake stood up and spun around to glare at Rosalie, fires burning in his lavender eyes. "YOU! You did this! You brought these devil cats into MY apartment and destroyed it! I knew I shouldn't have let you in here. Animals are not allowed in my apartment! Especially cats. I HATE CATS!" Blake roared angrily and the lights began to flicker inside the penthouse.

  Rosalie gave Blake a bored look and raised her eyebrow at him. "Destroyed? We fixed it. It was so cold and impersonal before?now it's 'lived in'." Rosalie declared before walking over and plopping down on the bed. "This is a very nice apartment?"

  Blake fumed for a few more moments before stalking over to the bed and lying down next to Rosalie on the mattress that was completely covered in feathers. He watched the feathers floating around his room in disbelief. He began to laugh again. This situation was so?absurd.

  Rosalie began to laugh as well and the two laughed together on the bed. Spottie got tired of chasing feathers and hopped up on the bed to snuggle up against Rosalie. The medium absentmindedly scratched Spottie behind her ears.

  "Well, I'm so glad you like it." Blake began, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "So, I'll let you stay on one condition." Blake began, an evil smile stretching across his face.

  Uh oh. Rosalie turned her head to look at Blake quizzically. "And what's that?"

  Getting to stay for free in a place like this?she should have known there'd be a catch!

  "You have to be my slave." Blake started, "And your first assignment is to get yourself hired by Wraythe Records. That way you can start investigating all of the people who were close to me, and then figure out who dared to kill the glorious me. But don't worry, I won't make you hurt anyone?I'll figure out how to get revenge on whoever did this to me all on my own.

  "If you do that you and your cats can stay here as long as you want. They can even use my furniture as their personal scratching posts and my Persian carpets as their litter boxes and?I'll pay for all their food and medical expenses. I probably still have a little bit of spending money in my safe. Now that I think about it?you could also use the money I give you to help your father. And you have to start calling me 'Master'. So what do you say, slave?"

  Rosalie thought it over?and realized she didn't have much of a choice. She had nowhere to go, no one to turn to?just Blake White?and he was dead. Rosalie nodded slowly. "Alright. You have a deal?Master." She cringed as she said the last word.

  Blake grinned. "Awesome?I can't wait to get my hands on the son of a gun who-" Blake saw Rosalie's horrified look and coughed awkwardly. "Anyways, let's make sure my emergency money is still in the safe?the safe is behind that painting of me." Blake waved his hand imperiously in its direction.

  Rosalie nodded and walked over the rectangular painting of Blake and pulled on it. The painting opened like a book cover to reveal the safe.

  "The combination is 0708." Blake informed Rosalie.

  His birthday again? Egotistic ghost. Rosalie punched the combination in and the safe opened. Rosalie opened the safe and her eyes bugged. There were stacks and stacks of money inside the safe. She had never seen so much money before in all her life. "H-H-How much money is in there?"

  Blake shrugged. "Not much, I'm afraid, just pocket change. There should be at least a mil in there."

  "A mil?" Rosalie staggered backwards, feeling faint. "A million dollars?"

  Blake nodded. "That's right."

  "And I can really use this money to help my father?" Rosalie asked quietly.

  "Of course, as long as you help me?now, firsts things first." Blake looked Rosalie over. "You'll need a new identity. You're going to become Ro the Stylist." Blake pointed at Rosalie dramatically. "We'll get you some new clothes, a fake ID, and business cards. Then we'll go to Wraythe Records and give your resume to Manager Brody. You'll get hired with my help, Rosalie. But you won't be able to do this without me. So just follow my lead."

  "O-Okay." Rosalie agreed.

  Blake floated around Rosalie and looked her over more critically before shaking his head. This gloomy girl would need a lot of work. "You'll have to do something about that disgusting mop of hair on your head. We'll get you a contact lens prescription. You'
ll need a total makeover. Making a beggar girl like you look decent is not going to be easy. This is going to be expensive?"

  Blake's harsh words stung. "Makeover? Carrie's wanted to give me one of those since I first met her?maybe she could help. And she already knows what's going on and about you. She'd keep our secret." Rosalie suggested.

  "That crazy Goth girl?but she dresses like a freak. What if she turns you into one too? I want you to look stylish, not freakish." Blake crossed his arms over his nicely toned chest with a huff.

  "I saw her reading VOGUE when she thought I wasn't looking. Trust me?I think Carrie can help me?us?" Rosalie insisted softly.

  Blake sighed but had to admit it was a good idea. He nodded. "Alright, fine, you can call the freak?"

  Rosalie smiled and made her way over to the phone. "Do you think the phone still works?"

  Blake gave Rosalie 'a look'. "This is a hotel, not an apartment building - the phone will always be working. I'll have to figure out how you can make the rent payments on this place later?"

  Rosalie dialed Carrie's cell phone number and the Goth witch immediately picked up. "Hello?" Carrie asked.

  "Hey Carrie, it's me Rosalie." Rosalie said.

  "Rosalie!? How are you? You like just disappeared?I was worried. Are you okay?"

  "Yes, I'm okay, but I need your help. I need you to meet me at this hotel. Think you can come over tomorrow morning? And I need you to bring everything you would need in order to give me a full makeover."

  "Alright, I understand. When I get there tomorrow morning you have a lot of explaining to do, young lady! Now where the hell are you?"

  "The Chateau Marmont Hotel. I'm on the seventh floor in penthouse suite 701."

  "Oh my Goddess. I'm not even going to ask. I'll be there tomorrow morning at eight o'clock."

  "Okay. Thank you, Carrie."

  "What are friends for?" Carrie said before ending the call.

  "She'll be here tomorrow at eight o'clock." Rosalie informed Blake.

  Blake nodded. "Good?you can feel free to watch TV or listen to some of my CDs or play some video games until you go to bed."

  "CDs?" Rosalie's interest was piqued. The medium hopped off the bed, padded her way to the living room, and over to Blake's entertainment center. She began to peruse his collection of rock, punk rock and heavy metal CDs, and excitedly noticed that all of Erotic Corpses' albums were there.

  Rosalie picked an Erotic Corpses CD and popped it into the CD player. She pressed play and cranked up the volume. Blake's voice and his band mates' playing began to fill the apartment.

  Rosalie took her hair out of her ponytail and shook her wild, curly hair out. She picked up a pencil to sing into and began to sing along with Blake's voice.

  Blake's eyes widened as he watched her. He had been surprised and touched that Rosalie had chosen to play one of his CDs and that she could sing along with the song. She impressively knew all the words but she was completely tone-deaf. Although Blake had to admit that she was passionate and that he liked her energy and enthusiasm. She was reminding him of that bride he had seen singing in the rain in the ghetto?

  "Ah!" Blake suddenly realized, pointing his finger at Rosalie. "That bride - was you! Wasn't it?"

  Rosalie blinked. "Um?"

  "I saw a runaway bride singing in the rain to one of my songs?it was you wasn't it?" Blake insisted.

  Rosalie blushed when she realized what the singer was talking about. "Ah, that time?" It had been right after Dr. Cole had assaulted her and tried to cut her heart out of her chest.

  Blake had still been alive then?the singer wondered what could have happened if he had gotten out of the car and started to sing along with Rosalie?would that moment in time have changed his fate?

  But nothing was stopping him from sharing his gift with her now. Blake opened his mouth and began to sing.

  Rosalie felt a warm, fuzzy feeling in her stomach as she listened to Blake sing. His voice really was so beautiful, so special?it was really a shame that no one would get to hear his voice again?it was so sad?

  Rosalie opened her mouth and began to sing along with Blake. Together they sang and hopped around on Blake's furniture and head banged. Well, Blake floated around or over his furniture, but yea.

  Blake was on a high. "You can use my diamond-encrusted, skull-shaped microphone if you want." Blake offered, feeling generous.

  Rosalie looked surprised by Blake's offer, but then smiled and nodded. "Thanks." The medium went over to the microphone stand and removed the now portable version of Kylie Minogue's diamond skull microphone. Rosalie took a deep breath and began to sing into the microphone.

  Blake felt a twinge of pain in his chest watching Rosalie sing into his favorite microphone. The microphone that he would never get to touch again. The microphone that he was unable to take with him beyond the grave. The ghost reached his hand out towards the microphone wistfully but then brought his hand back to his chest.

  Rosalie and Blake sang until the medium fell asleep on the floor out of exhaustion. She awoke the next day to the sound of Carrie knocking on the door. "Ah, that must be Carrie!" Rosalie said as she scrambled off the Persian carpet and replaced the microphone back into the stand carefully. The music was still on and so she turned it off before going to answer the door.

  Sure enough it was Carrie. The witch was dressed in a pair of tight black leather pants, and a black, medieval-style shirt with long, belled sleeves that had a purple medieval cross on it. Her violet-colored hair hung loose in waves around her shoulders and her pentagram necklace gleamed on her ample cleavage.

  "ROSALIE!" Carrie exclaimed as she dropped her bags of stuff and threw her arms around Rosalie and hugged the living daylights out of her.

  "Ah, Carrie, I can't breath?" Rosalie choked out.

  Carrie immediately pulled back and gave Rosalie an apologetic look. "Sorry?" The Goth girl then looked past Rosalie and gave the penthouse a suspicious look. "He's here isn't he? That arrogant ghost?"

  Rosalie nodded. "Yes."

  "I knew it!" Carrie talked into the penthouse, hands on her hips and glared about the room. "He got into some kind of trouble didn't he? Where is that bastard ghost?I'll taser him to death!"

  Rosalie began to laugh nervously as Blake's rage began to build at Carrie's words and the lights in the apartment began to flicker. "He's?floating right next to me. Anyways, Carrie?I've made a deal with Blake. I'm going to get hired by Wraythe Records and help Blake discover his murderer by posing as a stylist. In return I get to stay here?among other things. That's why I need your help to give me a whole new look. Can you help me?" Rosalie gave Carrie a pleading look.

  Carrie looked thoughtful. "So you decided to help Blake after all. Of course I'll help you, Rosalie - for your sake though, not Blake's. He's an ungrateful bastard after all."