A/N: Hello! Thank you again for the lovely reviews! I posted a new story, you might want to check it out, it's called 'When You've Got Everything (You've Got Everything to Lose)', and I don't have a cover image for it yet, so for now, the image that appears is my avatar, which is an auto portrait I did. I really like to draw. Anyway, the replies to the reviews on the last chapter are in the end of this one. Enjoy!

1st August, 2003, 2:03pm

Tom picked up the black book he had found in Harry's closet from the top of his wardrobe. The cover was hard and shiny, making a low, annoying noise whenever Tom ran his fingers through it. Opening it, he saw the pages were of a brownish yellow colour, looking old and stained. Or burnt. Turning the pages in a swift motion with his thumb, he saw the book was entirely empty.

Tom had seen the girl more than once since the first time. And it was always the same dream, the same hall, the same mirror. And each time, Tom would wake up shaking, whimpering, or falling from the bed, preventing him from sleeping for the rest of the night. Of course, the lack of sleep was taking its toll on him: he barely laughed or spoke to Danny and Harry anymore, he didn't want to go out anymore, besides being extremely touchy.

The only positive thing he could take from those nightmares was the inspiration he was getting to write songs. All the melodies he came out with were slow and a little sad or dramatic, but they were good. They didn't sound like his normal poppy, happy songs. No, those were so much different.

The way the little girl influenced his song writing was scary. Various times a day, his mind would be flooded with negative thoughts, like death, suicide, and doubt.

Sighing, Tom dropped the book on his desk and went to the music room. The music room was where they were supposed to write their songs and practice them, even though they did most of the song writing in other places, like Danny's room, or near the pool. 'Meaningful places give you inspiration', Danny had said.

The room had four guitars (two acoustic ones and two electric ones) hung on the wall, a bass and a drum set in the centre, a keyboard, and, in the left corner, a desk with a computer, where Danny liked to work on their demos. Tom went to the keyboard, taking his lyric book and a pencil with him, and, after taking a deep breath, he started to play a soft melody, stopping occasionally to take notes of the chords, and thinking about some lyrics.

After about two hours, Tom had done a three minute instrumental song. Sighing, he closed the lyric book. He had so many emotions inside of him, but none of them suited the somewhat haunting melody stuck in his head. In some sort of way, what he had written sounded like a beginning. He felt like it had to be continued. Leaving the lyric book on the top of the keyboard, Tom got up, deciding he would have a snack and then continue his song.

In the living room, Danny and Harry were watching some movie on TV, and turned their heads instantly at him when he was going to the kitchen.

'What have you been doing, Tom?' Danny asked, smiling. 'This movie is really cool; you could watch it with us.' Tom shook his head.

'No, thanks Dan, but I'm not in the mood for movies.' Danny's smile dropped. 'I've been working on a song, and I'm just taking a break.' Tom left without further answer, ready to go back to the music room after grabbing a doughnut. When he was halfway through the stairs, a voice stopped him.

'Tom?' He heard Harry ask.

'Yeah, Harry?'

'When will Dougie arrive?'

'In four days.' Tom sighed. His friends couldn't ever remember anything. Dougie Poynter would be their bassist, but, because of some late auditioning and family problems, Dougie would only arrive two weeks later than Harry. Tom climbed the rest of the stairs to the first floor and wasn't really surprised to notice how colder the room was comparing to the rest of the house. That had already happened a lot, whenever he dreamt with the mirror and the girl.

He was going to sit on the keyboard, when he heard the computer turning on with that usual annoying music. Tom frowned. He hadn't turned on the device, had he? Gingerly, he walked towards the computed and sat on the chair. Not even touching the mouse, Tom watched as a Word document opened, apparently, on his own accord.

Tom was truly scared now. Hyperventilating, he felt his head spin, and a wave of nausea hit him. Clenching his fists, he was now sweating from everywhere, looking at the monitor in front of him, actually waiting for something.

'Please don't be a ghost, please don't be a ghost, please, please...' He prayed, as he crossed his fingers, hoping to feel a tiny bit safer. And, for his horror, the words started to write themselves:

'What are you scared of, Thomas? I'm not even alive'

LeilaTheGalaxyDefender: Is this good enough for the spooky stuff you wanted? Haha, I really had fun writing it, and there's a lot more to come! Thanks for reviewing, it's always nice :)