Hey, everybody! I absolutely love the Pretty Little Liars books, and I got this idea for a fanfiction! I've already written a fanfic for Titanic, which turned out to be very popular. So, this is the eighth book from Alison's point of view, with all the plotting and lies. It starts when the DiLaurentis's call everyone out to their home to announce that "Courtney" exists.

Carefully, I peeked out of the window onto the lawn, flooded with those pesky, crazed reporters and curious bystanders who had nowhere else to be.

Today was the day. The day that my parents would announce my existence. The day that I had been waiting for, for nearly 5 years. The day that I could put my plan into action, my plan to give these meddlesome bitches what they deserved.

Bile rose in my throat as I stared out at the four of them, huddled together like sheep, unsure of where else to go. What had Courtney ever seen in them? Emily Fields had limp, strawberry blond hair, freckles that looked like pimples, and broad shoulders. Spencer Hastings looked like an overworked intern at some godforsaken sweatshop. Aria Montgomery—my God, what was she wearing?—was using ChapStick in an attempt to soften her dry, cracked lips. And, although I couldn't deny that Hannah Marin looked, well, gorgeous, she had looked like a big piece of ham when Courtney had plucked her out of oblivion.

Emily glanced over in my direction, and I let the curtain drop. No need for her to be freaked out…yet. I leaned against the door, listening to my mother drone on and on about how sad Jenna's murder was. Yes, she was a sweet girl, but she knew too much. It was unpreventable.

I recognized my cue to step outside. My backstabbing mother always needed to be in control of absolutely everything that happened, giving me a cue like it was some sort of play. She didn't know anything, though—hell, she didn't even realize that her daughters switched places. I would take my revenge on her once I was done with Courtney's little posse.

Forcing a sweet smile on my face, I walked outside. I wasn't nervous; I'm Ali and I'm fabulous. There was a collective gasp from the audience, and a few people screamed. The next second, there was a roar of sound from the audience, and cameras flashed, nearly making me dizzy. I gazed around at the audience, letting them take in my black leggings and tights, blue oxford shirt, cropped white jacket, striped scarf, and hair pulled into a bun. Hey, just because it was my dearest ambition to scratch all of their eyes out, didn't mean that I couldn't look beautiful.

I noticed Emily staring openmouthed at me, looking like her wildest dreams had come true. Oh, yes. I remembered reading in Courtney's diary that Emily had a puppy crush on her, and it looked as though it would be pretty easy to transfer it to me. Slowly and seductively, I winked, watching Emily's face turn bright red. This might actually be fun.

Then I noticed Melissa Hastings glaring at me. I paled. Jason, acting through the power of love, had told Melissa about my insane, evil (and thanks to me, dead) sister. Did she suspect me? But no, she couldn't. However, better to not take a chance.

I got each of the bitches to look me in the eye, then nodded toward the door of the house. I whispered to my mother, "I'm feeling tired. May I please go inside?"

She nodded, still eating up the reporter's attention, not even glancing at me. "My daughter is a little overwhelmed. She's going to go back inside for a while to rest."

I walked back to the door, pausing to raise an eyebrow at the girls. They better come, because it would be a lot harder to get them to the Poconos this weekend if we weren't friends. I had already formulated a plan to kill them—make friends, go to the Poconos, set the house on fire to kill them all in one swipe, then make it out to be a freak accident. An easy, quick, and foolproof plan.

Darting around the corner of the kitchen, I heard them step inside. Time to get into character. I had to act like Courtney at first, then when we were close enough, reveal that I was Ali. I even had a heartbreaking story to go along with it.

I slowly stepped around the corner, smiling at the simple brilliance of my plan. Again, they looked as though they had seen a ghost. "I promise I won't bite." I said slowly, not promising anything about murdering. "I wanted a minute alone with you before things got too crazy." Damn, I was good at this!

They fidgeted, not speaking. Sighing inwardly, I guessed that I was going to have to keep up the conversation by myself. "You guys were my sister's best friends, right? Spencer, Emily, Hannah, Aria?" Always best to check, I thought to myself.

"Yeah," Spencer said finally, her voice shaky. I remembered the first time I really noticed them—when Courtney was posing as me, talking to them in the backyard as a cover. That's probably why she chose them—because they were the only ones that she had talked to. For her, it was the start of a new life. For me, it was the beginning of the end.

"Ali told me about you." It was strange to refer to myself in third person. "But she never told you about me, did she?" It would have been just like Courtney to brag to her besties about how she was the better sister, but I supposed that she wouldn't want to take the chance.

"No," Emily managed to choke out. "Not once."

"Then I guess this is pretty bizarre." I said breezily.

"So, where were you? At a hospital or something?"

I tried not to roll my eyes. Aria had always been nosy. Casting around for something to say, I noticed how much Spencer looked like me. I was the outcome of my slutty mom getting knocked up from her dad, so we were half-sisters. The second sibling I'll have to kill.

"Kind of. I was at this place called the Radley. And then, after it became a hotel or whatever, I was moved to a place called the Preserve at Addison-Stevens." I was pretty sure that they knew those places were mental hospitals, but it didn't matter. They would know I wasn't crazy when I told them who I really was.

"So…it was for…mental issues?" Aria asked.

God, why was she so irritating? Losing my temper, I snapped at her, "Those places aren't just for mental patients!" Now why did I say that? I was there—although wrongfully—for mental issues.

It was worth it, though. Aria blushed a deep crimson, stuttering out an apology. I shrugged in response, looking away.

Finally, I decided to make something clear for them. "Anyway, I'm sorry I ran away from you the night of the fire. That was probably really…confusing."

"Omigod, that was you!" Hannah exclaimed, her mouth open.

I just said that, didn't I? I wanted to snap. Instead, I let the geniuses figure out that yes, it was me.

"What were you doing there?" Emily asked, her eyes wide.

I decided that it was time for a good sob story. "I got a note from Billy, saying that there was something in the woods I needed to see. I wasn't supposed to leave the house, but it said that it would help solve Ali's murder. When I reached the woods, the fire started. I thought I was going to die…but then Aria saved me. Thank you, by the way." It was so convenient that the police had taken the bait about Billy. Then again, he did have a rough background.

The night in the woods hadn't gone as I planned, though. When I realized that they weren't going to die, I decided to make them question their sanity by letting them see a ghost: me.

"How did you get out of there so quickly?" Emily pressed. I think she just wanted to hear my voice again. How very cute.

I explained about Wilden getting me out. "You shouldn't trust him!" Emily cried.

I laughed. She was so overprotective. "Settle down, Killer." The nickname slipped from my tongue before I could stop it. I had read it in Courtney's diary. Oh well, it could probably help me convince them that I was Ali, anyway.

The girls looked confused, but before they could say anything, my mother came walking down the hall, smiling her big, fake smile with her white teeth. She glanced at the four girls long enough to thank them for coming, then turned her full attention to me. After all, I was what kept her in the spotlight. "I'm sorry, honey," she simpered, not sounding sorry at all. "But there's someone here from MSNBC who has a couple of questions. He's come all the way from New York…"

I rolled my eyes. "Okay…" All for the best—I was getting bored of talking to them anyways.

My mom said that the police wanted to speak to me too, then began to primp me like I was a mannequin. I wrenched away from her, mumbling something about not wanting to talk. Turning back to the girls, I smiled and told them to come by anytime. "Oh! And I almost forgot. I'm going to Rosewood Day! See you at school tomorrow." I winked, then flounced out the door.