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.


15. This Is NOT The End Of My Life


There's this little piece of me, which I try to keep buried deep inside me. It's never come out before, but now it's rearing it's matted, primitive head. I call it the surviving part of me. Right now, it's telling me to get on and kill, or be killed.

I forced my right heel down into the floor, so I had a stable base, and drove my left heel into her right leg, so she collapsed to the ground. The lethal needle skittered across the tiles, far away from me and the boss.

"Get to that needle, and fast! If she gets to it first, she'll use it to kill you!" The surviving part of me hollered, as I dived over to it. I hadn't gotten close to it, before my ankle was grabbed, and I smacked to the floor.

My jaw crunched onto the tough tiles, making the sweet, salty blood spring up from my teeth. Fighting back the pain, I flipped onto my back and clawed at the leader, as she dragged herself up my body. Her pointed nails dug into and scratched at the delicate skin covering my neck, as she attempted to close her hand in a death grip around my neck.

I drew my knees up to my chest, forcing both my feet up into her chest. Her grip slackened, so I kicked again, and again, until she was off of me. Sitting up, I clenched my fist into the tightest dragon-fist possible, before I forced it into her throat. The anger I had inside me, from the letter bomb, the attack, the attempt at murder, and the actual murder of my closest friend, transferred down into my fist, making my punch a lot stronger than usual.

Her throat buckled inwards, as I followed it through. That had to be a life-altering injury, that I just gave her. Jumping up, I dived for the needle, landing firmly over it. She then landed on me, forcing all the air out of my chest.

"Go in for the kill. Do it!" The surviving part of me said, before an intense burning pain kicked in to my palm. I'd stabbed myself in the hand with the needle, and some of the fluid had leaked into me. It burned like fire and acid combined, and made a hazy ring appear around my vision.

Obeying the surviving part of me, I turned so I was on my right side, with the needle clutched to my chest. A drop or two more of the fluid, dripped into the muscles again. It burned severely, but helped me pull out the needle and force it into the boss, knocking the plunger down with my finger.

Her facial expression changed rapidly, from inhuman, almost animalistic fury, to dull recognition, then pure fear. Not just the fear you get when you get out of the shower, wrap a towel around you, and notice there's a huge spider on it. This is I'm-Gonna-Die-Now! style fear. Her face contorted dramatically, like a Scream/Grim Reaper mask, as she pulled the needle out.

I'd got her in the neck, right in the carotid artery. Drops of blood sprang up from the puncture wound, which turned to a trickle, then a flow of scarlet blood. She scraped at the wound, even when I shoved her off me, like she was trying to pull the killer drug out of her. It wasn't working, as her scraping motions, started slowing down, and then stopped completely. She stood, with her Scream/Grim Reaper face, flowing blood neck, swaying, until she eventually toppled slowly backwards, landing with a hard crash on the tiles.

The sickening crack came from her, when she fell. Her chest was still rising and falling, slowly but constantly, as the first reddish hints started poking out from under her ebony river of hair. She'd fractured her skull from the fall, and the back of her head was bleeding.

Eventually, the rising and falling of her chest, slowed to a crawl, and then stopped completely. Just like that. She was dead.

I got to my feet, wobbling slightly, as the killer fluid took effect. She was dead, and I was following suit.

"No, you will be ok. You will be a hundered-percent ok. Just trust me." TG took me in his arms, as solid as a living person. He was going to be the last person I was going to see, touch, and hear.

"I...can't help it. I joining you death. I will...die down here." I replied, leaning against him. He was such a good friend to me, and so loyal. To think I thought he was going to kill me, and I beat him up. How stupid was I?

"No you won't! I refuse to let that ever, ever happen. You know I never break my promises, and I promise that I'll keep you alive. You will not die down here, I promise that too." He replied. With one flick and jerk of his arms, he was carrying me in his arms. He was actually going to carry me out of here, and back home to Malibu.

I've never had anyone be willing to do something like that for me.

"Thankyou..." There was something else I had to say to him, before I...well, you know. I had to say it, but I'm not sure how he'd take it. I had to say it though. I just had to.

"You' family. Not real family...better. That's why...I love you." I said, slowly blinking up at him.

"I've felt that from you, and I love you too."

He took it well. That's a good sign. I've finally let him know, and now I can just, let it happen. My time has come, and now, I can join him in death. Forever.

Just like a kite slipping out of its string, or an origami boat being released from young hands, I was free. Free me.

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