Never Alone Version Two

I'm writing Never Alone, my first completed Movella, again as I want to make it even better. I might even send it to a publisher. Here goes...

After a young thrillseeker gets bored in the summer holidays, she comes up with a fun-sounding, if strictly illegal, boredom-buster. Break into, and take photos of, some celebrities homes. Will Smiths' place= Too easy. Casa de Jennifer Aniston= She could do it blindfolded. However, a dare from her best friend leaves her getting caught by the owner of Mansion Number 3. If that wasn't scary enough, the owner died when she was 12.

Now, 15-year-old Diana has a huge secret to hide, and an even bigger one to uncover. Both could leave her the same way as her ghostly companion.

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3. I Know I'll Never Learn

 

I'd uploaded the photo's from Will Smith's house, to my computer files, and I was fully prepared for the next house. I'd decided on Jennifer Aniston as my next target, and had located her mansion on the star map. Now, I was trying to look like I wasn't doing anything wrong, whilst leaning against the back wall of her mansion. I always break in through the back, as that's always where the security can never quite see clearly enough.

Once I was confident that nobody was looking, I dragged myself up and over the wall. Landing perfectly on the other side, I began making my way towards the mansion.

I didn't have a clue if Jennifer Aniston was in or not, so I was very nervous. If I got caught, then it's a 5 year long stretch in juvie and a criminal record for me. Not the kind of thing an employer at a summer camp would be looking for in the latest addition to the team of extreme sports instructors. Hey, we've all got to have a goal in life, and mine is to teach kids how not to get killed whilst having fun.

Slinking cat-like along the perimeter of the mansion, I switched on my Forest-Racing Mode. I do forest-racing in the winter, and it's so much fun. Basically, you try and run through the forests nearby, without bumping into a rattlesnake, coyote, bobcat, grizzly bear, black bear, wolf or mountain lion. They're all more common in California than you think, but easily avoided by climbing any tree that's nearby (unless it's a black bear, then you act tough or climb as high up a very thin tree as possible). Now, I'm not listening out for any wild animals, but for the excited bark of a guard dog.

I pressed myself against a wall, by an open window. Judging by the sounds coming from inside, it was the kitchen. I crept under the window, prepped my camera, then held it up through the window and took the photo. I tucked my camera into my chest after that, before anyone came and saw me taking a photo.

I checked the photo, and saw what I'd taken a photo of. A normal, if fancy, kitchen, with Jennifer Aniston leaving it. I nervously bit my lip, realising that I had to get out of there right this second. I slunk back along the wall, telling myself to stay quiet. I rounded the corner, when I saw the back wall and broke the first rule of getting away with anything. Never break cover before first checking that it's a good idea to do so.

I took off towards the back wall, when the first shouts came.

"Oi, you shouldn't be in 'ere!" Came the shout from a security guard, then the frenzied barking of a German Shepherd in full-on attack mode. I was stupid, and should have checked first. Now, I was going to get mauled by a savage guard dog, then arrested and stuck in juvie for 5 years.

"Not if you bloody move right now!" The encouraging part of me said, as I forced my legs to go faster. There was no way in heaven that I would make it to the back wall, but that didn't mean I couldn't make it to that massive Weeping Willow tree.

I reached the tree, and jammed my foot hard into the join between a branch and the trunk. I used that as a leg-up for the next branch, which I used to drag myself about 6 feet up. I didn't stop climbing up the tree, until I couldn't see the ground through the dense foliage. Then, I held on to the trunk as tightly as possible, as the dog barking got more and more frantic.

"Come on down now miss, and I won't have to shoot." Came the guard's voice again. I froze in fear, as a bullet in my back would be a bad thing for my health.

"You actually believe him? Even if he has a gun, he wouldn't shoot a 15 year-old girl. Bluff him enough to make a poker-star proud." The encouraging part of me hissed, as I edged my way along the strongest-looking branch.

"You can't shoot a kid!" I called back down, holding tightly onto the branch. It wasn't my best bluff, but it might work. Let's just hope he doesn't ask why not.

"And why not?" He replied, my heart sinking.

"Be-Because I bet you don't even have a gun!" I stammered, inching about a foot forward.

There was a flurry of movement below the branches, then a loud clicking noise, and the loud crack of a gun being fired. Clearly he did have one. Just my luck to live in the USA. Land of the free, home of the armed.

"Now are you going to come down now, or am I going to stop being so nice?" He asked, as I dragged myself along the branch. I was about 2 feet away from the wall, and I know my personal long-jump-from-standing record is 3 feet, 9 inches.

"Ok, you win. I'll start climbing down right about now." I lied, standing on the branch. I'm not climbing down; I'm jumping. Not on this side of the wall either.

Stabling myself, I ran at full speed along the branch, before launching myself off the branch and over the wall. That was too wicked, and it's not done yet. Curling up into a tuck, I crunched into myself as I touched down, so the shockwave wouldn't total-out my bones. I sprang up from the crouch, and ran for it. My Nike trainers pounded the sidewalk, as I bolted through the Malibu streets. Thank God it's the middle of the day, when everyone's at work, or I'd have been stopped by now.

I rounded several corners, desperate to get away. My body ached all over, as I ran. I must have done something to some part of my body. Probably just snapped one of the tiny bones in my toes, that we break every time we take a step. That seems most likely.

I ran through the streets, finally stopping to catch my breath when I was a good distance away. My breath was ragged, and stung the back of my throat. That was totally awesome.

"I reccomend putting a hold on the rogue photos. Well, for a day or two. Otherwise, you'll be caught like that." The demoralising side of me whispered, as I leant against a lamppost. Sweat ran all over my body, from the intense running. I guess I should put a hold on the celeb-home-snapping. For a day or two.

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