Part 6

As I walked down the stairs to look for my brother, the rest of the Bohemians caught a glimpse at the new figure (me, of course) and stopped to stare at me for what seemed like an eternity.
A few guys whispered and whistled, while the girls admired my new style and smacked some of their boyfriends for whistling. I wasn't used to getting this type of attention for dressing up in costume. Normally, if I had worn something like this to school, I would be ridiculed non-stop by everyone. This was much better than dressing up in the same plastic, neon-colored GaGa clothing you'd see all the time. Before I could fully become ashamed and hide, my brother placed an arm around me and smiled.

"I always knew my sister had taste. Just like me," he said, grinning.
"You can thank Meat for that. She's the one who picked it out and helped with the whole get-up," I replied, grinning back at him.
"She give you a new name yet?"
"She keeps calling me 'Jimi', but I haven't seen a list of names yet."
"How 'bout Janis?"
"No. I like Jimi better," Meat said as she approached us, "She looks like a Jimi."
"So...your mind's made up then? Ally's now...Jimi?"
"If it's cool with her. Just don't let 'er lose it."

I nodded and said, "I'm Jimi. Nice to meet you."
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There was this dream I had for weeks now...that I was being chased by the police. We were all on the run: Layne, my brother, myself, and the rest of the Bohemians. Every time I would try to escape, there would be puddles of blood everywhere along with a nameless body. After all the running around, I collapsed and tried to call for help, but my throat was closed and my mouth wouldn't open. One masked SP would see me and raise his weapon up at me...but as I tried to block him, my hands and arms were all full of blood...
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"SHIT!"

I screamed and jolted up from the mattress I continued to sleep on for five weeks. I gasped heavily and closed my eyes, realizing that it was only another stupid dream. I don't know whether it was from one of my brother's stories on how he escaped (twice) from the police and the brainwashing, but I still kept on having these freaky nightmares. All I wanted to do was get a good night's sleep, but it was no use anyway. My already worried mind was making me paranoid. I slowly got up and walked out of the room, hoping that I would be able to tire myself out from all the walking around I was about to do. I didn't want to bother Galileo since his overprotective (not to mention extremely bitchy) girlfriend would give me another one of those demonic glares.

As I walked around, I noticed an old looking wooden thing that looked like a huge storage chest with a standing stool, but it had these white and black buttons that were dusty and almost chipped. Pieces of paper with some markings were placed on top of it, and I looked at it slowly. The words were poetic but I didn't know what to make of it. I slowly sat down on the stool and pressed one of the buttons...this almost low pinging sound came out from inside, echoing the center of the room. I pressed down on another one, and it went a bit higher.
I looked at the paper and noticed that it was a different type of text. It was a sheet of something with a bunch of symbols and words that were in between or above and below the lines.

"You play?"

I turned quickly and saw the blond, Layne, leaning against the wall and watching me.

"Don't know," I said, "Never tried and don't know what it is."
"We think it's one of the banned instruments from long ago. One of the primary ones, I think."
"You know what it's called?" I asked as he walked over to me.
Layne shrugged and replied, "We've given it a bunch of names, but your brother thinks it's a prehistoric computer without an electric cable or a screen."
I shook my head and muttered, "My brother."

He looked at me with those green eyes and sat down next to me.
"I suddenly feel that there's some hatred going on," Layne said.
"Not against him...but his chick."
"Scaramouche? Yeah, she does seem like an arrogant bitch..."
"Ah! Someone agrees with me! Thank you!"
"But she's not all that bad if you ever get the chance."
"Well lately, she hasn't given me the chance. She thinks that I'm making everything up."

"She's always been that way from what I understand. Ever since she met Gaz she's been the total nutcase...worrying about who's the spy, the traitor, or the saint. But she's not at all bad once you get used to her mucking around and screaming her head off."

I nodded and replied, "I guess your right."

(To be continued...)