The second place I lived was far more interesting than the first. Soon after attending a very California New-Agey type church at the request of a friend, I met a guy who owned a haunted house near the University of Southern California. I was intriqued from the start.

As I walked up the stone steps to the gated door, I felt as if the house was watching me as intently as I was watching it. I nodded a "good morning" to it, figuring respect was more appropriate than fear.

We sat and talked for a while, about how long he owned the house, how his father was in real estate for much of the USC area; when suddenly I heard a whisper... "find the diary."

"How do you know about the diary?" my new friend asked. I explained what I heard.

"Many have said it's here, but no one has yet to find it."

I moved in about two weeks later.