Never Alone

I remember reading a newspaper article about a random pattern of break-ins in the Beverly hills area, that just suddenly stopped after the second one. I decided to create the story of the break-ins, but with a twist.

A young thrillseeker has a new way of getting her rush. She decides to break into some celebrities homes.
The first few are easy, until she gets caught by the owner of a huge mansion. If that wasn't scary enough, there's one tiny thing to take into account.
The owner died 3 years ago.

Now Diana has a big secret to hide, and a bigger secret to uncover. One that could leave her the same way as her ghostly friend.

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3. Bets

It was two days after the Smith house escapade, before I could go out to tell Stacey all about it. Mainly because my scratched legs were both bleeding from walking from Beverly Hills back to my place. My mother was stressing like mad about my legs, mainly because she thought they'd get infected.

Yeah, right. My thighs got completely shredded when I was 13 and went cliff diving near Malibu Beach and they never got infected. Someone thought it would be "funny" to throw a huge rock down at me after my dive. Let me tell you, open wounds the size of my hand, plus salty water, equals a world of hurt. It stops infection in its tracks though. Forget those antiseptic sprays that cost loads. Go swim in the ocean instead. It's free and it works.

Anyway, I had made my way over to Stacey's place with my camera to tell her, and (surprise, surprise) she thought I was being stupid.

"You could have been arrested if you were caught, you idiot!" She squeaked, giving me a shove.

"Hey, you mentioned the recording studio. I got curious and wanted to see if it was true." I explained, as my legs ripped open again, "My God they hurt!" I complained, as blood ran down my outer thigh.

"Lucky that I suggest we come here then." Stacy said, spreading her beach towel on the Malibu Beach sands.

"Yeah, are you coming in with me?" I ask, stripping down to my bikini.

"Last one in has to do a dare!" She calls, as we both race into the cool, blue Pacific ocean. The salty water stings like a devil, but knowing that it's better than infection encourages me in.

"Take your time; I've got to think up a suitable dare." Stacey calls from about 6 feet away, her wet blonde locks plastered to her head.

"Make it good!" I reply, swimming up to her, "You know I'll do anything."

"Alright, you can get something for me." She says, her devilish expression meaning that it's something involving her future husband (I'm not saying who he is, but let's just say that I don't know what she sees in him.).

"If it's anything to do with We-All-Can-Guess-Who, can I just say that I don't know what you see in him." I say, relieved to get that off my chest.

"It's not, it's more daring. You broke into the Smith's place, right? That means you can do it again to some other star, right?" She explains.

"Yeah, what are you getting at?" I ask, getting intrigued. When she whispers where she wants me to try next, and what to photograph as proof, even I get shocked.

"Are you serious?" I ask, as that's a stupidly daring place to try, "That place has been guarded so heavily since the early 80's. You really think they'd lay off now?"

"No, but you said you'd never change. Since when do you turn down an adrenaline rush?"

She had me there, "Ok, I'll do it."

It should be too easy. After all, nobody's lived there for 3 years, right?

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