Liar Liar (8 page)

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Authors: R.L. Stine

BOOK: Liar Liar
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I lowered myself onto the windowsill and slid one leg over the side.

This was the tricky part. The nearest branch was a foot or two below the window. I had to lower my feet onto it carefully, then swing my body out and grab onto the slender trunk.

If I slipped …

I didn't want to think about it.

I turned and started to swing my other leg out the window.

But I stopped when I saw the bedroom door open behind me. My twin burst in, still wearing his karate robe. His eyes searched the room, then stopped when he spotted me at the window.

“Good!” he said. “Go. You have to go. There isn't room for both of us!”

And then I gasped as he dived forward, arms outstretched. Running to push me out the window.

I spun to fight him off.

But my leg caught on the side of the house.

He grabbed my arm with both hands. And to my shock, pulled me back into the room.

I landed on the floor, breathing hard, my body bathed in a cold sweat.

He stared down at me, a crooked smile on his face. My crooked smile.

“Did you think I was going to push you out?” he asked, breathing hard.

“Well … maybe,” I muttered.

I climbed slowly to my feet. I stood facing him, tensed and ready.

“I'd love to push you out,” he said, squinting at me angrily. “But the fall wouldn't kill you. And I have to get you out of here—out of here for good.”

“So why didn't you let me go out the window?” I demanded.

“You wouldn't get very far,” he said menacingly.

“What do you mean?” I demanded.

“You don't understand. You don't know anything,” my twin said, shaking his head. “I guess I have no choice. I have to explain it all before you go.”

“But I'm not going,” I said firmly, crossing my arms in front of me. “You are going. You are the one who doesn't belong.”

He made a disgusted face and motioned for me to sit down.

I dropped down tensely on the edge of the bed. He tugged off the white robe and tossed it into the closet. Then he pulled out the desk chair and sat on it backward, resting his hands on its back.

“This is your own fault,” he said bitterly. He glanced to the door. I guessed he was making sure it was closed.

“My own fault?” I cried. “What are you talking about?”

“You told a lot of lies—didn't you!” he accused. “You lied and lied and lied. You told so many lies, you broke the fabric of truth and reality!”

“I didn't lie that much!” I protested.

“Ross, you lied so much, you lost all track of what's real and what isn't real,” he continued. “You slipped into a parallel world. Into a whole different reality. Out of your world—into my world.”

I jumped to my feet. “Are you crazy?” I shouted. “What are you talking about?”

“Didn't you learn about parallel worlds?” my twin asked. “What kind of school do you go to? We study that in fourth grade.”

“You're totally crazy,” I muttered, dropping back onto the bed.

“Well, didn't you notice things are a little different here?” my twin demanded. “Didn't you notice that things are almost the same—but not quite?”

“Well … yeah,” I replied.

My twin climbed to his feet. He shoved the chair back under the desk. “You lied and lied until you lost your reality,” he said.

“No—” I said.

“Now you're in a world where you don't belong. And it's your fault. All your fault.”

“How do you know?” I screamed. “What makes you the expert? How do you know anything about me?”

“Because I
am
you!” he shouted back. “I'm Ross Arthur in this reality, in this world. And you don't belong here! You're an Intruder. A dangerous Intruder. You can't stay!”

“No!” I cried again. “You're not Ross—I am!” I screamed.

But I knew I didn't belong here.

I couldn't belong here. Too many weird things had happened. Things I couldn't explain.

My twin said I broke the fabric of reality. But that sounded totally crazy.

Was I really in a parallel world?

My head began to throb. I didn't know what to believe.

“You have to go,” my twin ordered. “Get out—now!”

“GO? Where am I supposed to go?” I shouted. “I'm staying. You leave!”

And then I lost it.

I jumped on him. In a wild fury, I grabbed him around the neck.

I dropped him to the floor.

I kicked him hard in the stomach.

With an angry groan, he rolled on top of me. Punched me in the chest.

And we wrestled, wrestled frantically, rolling over the floor, punching, clawing, pounding each other.

“Only one of us belongs here, Ross,” he gasped. “Only one of us can stay. Me! You can't survive here! I'm telling the truth. You can't survive. You're going to die!”

I wrapped my twin in a headlock. I tightened my grip until his face turned red.

“I'm not going to die!” I gasped.

He twisted free and slammed me to the floor. He jumped on top of me and started to twist my arm.

“Owwwwww.” I let out a howl of pain.

A hard knock on the bedroom door made us both stop. We were wheezing, choking, gasping for breath. My side ached. My head throbbed. My neck was stiff.

He had a deep, red scratch down his left arm.

“Ross, what on earth are you and Jake doing in there?” Mom called in.

“Uh … nothing,” my twin answered, wiping a gob of spit off his chin. “We're just … kidding around.”

“No! Mom, help me!” I cried. “It's me! Please! Open the door! I—”

My twin clamped his hand over my mouth before I could say more. He furiously motioned for me to be quiet.

I struggled to get free.

My twin clamped his hand tighter over my mouth. I couldn't move. I couldn't make a sound.

Please, open the door! I silently begged. Please, Mom!

But the door remained closed. “Just don't wreck your room. It was cleaned this morning,” Mom called in.

“No problem,” my twin answered.

We listened to her footsteps padding down the stairs.

When she was gone, my twin finally lifted his hand from my mouth. “That was very stupid,” he muttered. “She wouldn't help you. She would know instantly that you don't belong here.”

“What are you saying?” I cried weakly.

I pulled myself to a sitting position on the floor and leaned my head against the bed.

“You just don't get it, do you,” he said.

I wiped sweat off my forehead with the sleeve of my T-shirt. “Get what?”

“You don't understand what is happening here,” he said, rubbing the red scratch on his arm. “You really never studied parallel worlds?”

I shook my head.

“Well, there are many, many parallel worlds,” he said. “I live in one world, and you live in another.”

“You live in the world of the cuckoos,” I muttered.

He sighed and continued. “That night at Max's party, the portal between our worlds opened up.”

I frowned at him. “You mean in the swimming pool?”

He nodded. “I saw you there in the water. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I was so scared. It took me a while to figure out what had happened.”

“What happened?” I asked.

“You slipped into my world, Ross. You slipped through the portal. You swam into my world.”

I rolled my eyes. Something weird was definitely going on. But portals? Parallel worlds? “I don't think so,” I said.

He jumped to his feet. “I'm trying to explain,” he snapped. “I'm sure it looked to you like your world. The people were all the same. The places were all the same. But it's different in a lot of ways. It's a parallel world. It's my world.”

“Tell me another one,” I muttered.

This guy was as good a liar as I was! He was so good, he almost had me believing him.

“Since that night at Max's party,” he continued, “you've been slipping in and out of my world. You've been going back and forth between our worlds. And now you seem to be stuck here. But you can't stay in this reality. You don't belong.”

“Then why don't
you
leave?” I shot back.

All this talk about parallel worlds was starting to give me the creeps.

“You don't belong,” he repeated. “And you … you can do a lot of damage.”

I swallowed hard. “Huh? What do you mean?”

“You are from another world. You can't just barge in and interfere with our world. You are dangerous. You are an Intruder. That's what we call people like you.”

An Intruder?

“Intruders are very dangerous,” my twin continued. “Even if they don't mean to be. Sometimes when they touch things, they change them. Sometimes they destroy things completely.”

“Okay. I get it,” I said. “I'm an Intruder. If I touch something, I destroy it.”

“You believe me?” he asked.

“Yes,” I replied.

I crossed the room and grabbed him with both hands.

“Goodbye!” I shouted. “Goodbye!”

He jumped up and shoved me away. “Nice try,” he muttered. “But you can't control it. You can't just grab people and destroy them any time you want.”

He glared at me angrily. He balled his hands into fists. “Don't ever try anything like that again,” he said.

And then he lowered his voice. “But there isn't much point in worrying about you. You're going to die in a day or two.”

“You're crazy,” I muttered, breathing hard. I balled my hands into fists, too. I was ready to fight again if I had to.

“Haven't you already started to feel the pain?” he asked. “The pain of being in a world where you don't belong? Intruders always feel more and more pain.”

I swallowed hard. The headaches? The powerful, stabbing headaches I'd had this afternoon? Is that what he was talking about?

No way. Everyone gets headaches from time to time.

“And when the pain becomes unbearable, Intruders start to fade away,” my twin continued. “They get lighter and lighter …. They fade until you can see right through them … lighter and lighter … until they blow away like a dead leaf.”

“Nooooo!” A scream of protest burst from my throat. “You're crazy! You're a liar!”

A crooked smile spread slowly over my twin's face. “You'll see,” he murmured.

“No!” I shouted again. “No—you'll see!”

I lowered my shoulder and rammed right into him, shoving him hard. He let out a startled cry and toppled onto the bed.

By the time he regained his feet, I had the bedroom door open and burst out into the hall.

“Mom! Mom—help me!” I shouted, running to the stairs.

I leaped down the stairs, two at a time. “Mom! Where are you?”

I ran through the house, calling for her. Back to the gym. Down to the family room. No sign of her.

I peered into the garage. Her car was gone. She must have gone out, I realized.

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