"New neighbours" she thought, as she sat in the backseat of her Mercedes S Class, and saw the moving van in front of the house next to hers. New neighbours didn't excite Willow as much as they would the normal American 20 year old. That was probably one of the many prices a person had to pay for being one of the most well known faces in the world, she thought to herself, as her chauffer pulled out of the drive and moved towards the mail road, taking Willow Rosenberg, America's Sweetheart, to another day of filminge.
Tara McLay, the heads sports correspondent for the Cable News and More (CNM) network, drove into the driveway of her new place! It had taken months of house hunting with that annoying real estate agent by her side, before Tara had finally found a place she could call "home".
The split level red brick home, with the swimming pool and tennis court at the back was all that Tara wanted to make herself comfortable. She glanced up at the house next to her own as she walked up to the front door. All that Tara knew was that the house belonged to Willow Rosenberg, the red head whose picture was perpetually in tabloids, and who had half of the world's population in love with her.
"Well, at least I won't have neighbour hassles, since I'll bet Miss Rosenberg loves her privacy." With that Tara turned the key in the lock and stepped into her new home.
It really had been a tiring day on location, Willow thought. The shoot had gone on way past sunset, and after a day of facing the camera under bright lights for hours on end, all Willow wanted to do was collapse into her water bed with Mr. Teddy, and go far away to dreamland. She was just about to drift off when there was a loud splash from somewhere outside her window. Turning to look at the clock on her bedside drawer, Willow rose to move onto her balcony, to check out the source of the splashing sounds. Her bedroom, on the upper floor of her house, was hidden from view by a large tree, which Willow had had transplanted a year ago, so as to block her room from the photographers prying lenses. The tree had been placed cleverly so as to give Willow and unobstructed view of the outside world, while at the same time hiding her from sight.
Now Willow peered out from behind the leaves, and saw someone swimming in the pool in her neighbour's backyard. Although the pool was dimly lit, Willow could make out the grace and swift movements with which the person swam up and down the length of the pool. After sometime, the "night swimmer" as Willow had started calling the person came out, and now Willow could make out that it was a woman with long hair, wearing a one piece black swimsuit. The woman took a sip of something that was on a small table next to the pool, before turning to dive back in, and begin the swift laps once more. Willow turned around and headed back to her bed. "Tomorrow's going to be another long day of filming" Willow thought, as her eyes shut. Soon she was asleep, snoring softly, somehow soothed off to her dreams by the soft slashing sounds coming from outside.
"I don't think my body can take much more exhaustion" thought Willow.
As her chauffer turned into the driveway of her home. She'd complained of a headache, and the shoot had been immediately wrapped up. No movie could afford to have a queasy looking leading lady now, could it? Telling her chauffer to take the rest of the day off, Willow locked the front door, and made her way upstairs. Deciding to take a cold shower before turning in for a while, she headed straight for the bathroom. Ten minutes later she was out, feeling much better, and was about to lie down when she heard a crash from her living room. Willow tensed. "What could that be? A cat?"
Then she heard noises of people talking. "Oooookay definitely not feline language there. What do I do? Aha!" she moved to her bed and pulled out the baseball bat that she'd played with as a child from underneath it, before slowly making her way downstairs. Steadily creeping to the living room, she moved up behind a masked man who had his back turned to her, and was about to swing when...
"Well, well, well...what have we here? it couldn't be THE Willow Rosenberg now can it?" a nasty voice said aloud. Willow turned around to see that she was faced by another masked man holding a knife threateningly in one hand.
"Put the bat down babe, or it won't be good for you." This came from the second man, who had turned around and produced a knife from somewhere too. Willow had no option but to do as she was told.