Hey Sofia here, starting a new series. This one is based on Sara Shepard's new book series, The Lying Game. I'm obsessed and I just had to write this [: I'll try not to go word for word on each chapter, but I'm allowing the same length on here and in the book, so it'll be pretty short. Summary will always be included in every chapter, if I remember, and this is just the first book, the second book comes out on August 2nd 2011 and I'll buy it, read it, and write it if I ever get the chance [: Since the twins are Michelle & Maryse, they will look more like Maryse, but instead of the French accent they'll both have Michelle's American accent. And Michelle's hair color, since Maryse's is kind of, too platinum.
I had a life anyone would kill for. Then someone did. The worst part about being dead is that there's nothing left to live for. No more kisses. No more secrets. No more gossip. It's enough to kill a girl all over again. But I'm about to get something no one else does—an encore performance, thanks to Michelle, the long-lost twin sister I never even got to meet. Now Michelle is desperate to know what happened to me. And the only way to figure it out is to be me—to slip into my old life and piece it all together. But can she laugh at inside jokes with my best friends? Convince my boyfriend she's the girl he fell in love with? Pretend to be a happy, carefree daughter when she hugs my parent's goodnight? And can she keep up the charade, even after she realizes my murderer is watching her every move?
Prologue
I woke up in a dingy-clawed foot in an un-familiar blue-tiled bathroom. A stack of Cosmopolitans scattered beside the toilet, white toothpaste in the marble sink. The window showed a dark sky and a full moon. What day of the week was it? Where was I? Was I in some frat boy house? A kidnapper's apartment? I could barely remember my name is Maryse Terrell, or that I lived in the foot-hills of Tucson, Arizona. I had no absolute idea where my bag was, plus I didn't have a clue where I would've parked my car. However, I don't remember what car I drive. Had someone slipped me something?
"Michelle?" a guy's voice called from another room.
"You home?"
"I'm busy!" called a voice close-by.
A tall, thin girl opened the bathroom door, her tangled blonde hair hanging in her face. "Hey!" I jumped to my feet. "Someone's in here al ready!" My body felt tingly, as if it had fallen asleep. When I looked down, it seemed like I was flickering on and off, like I was under a strobe light.
Freaky. Someone definitely slipped me something.
The girl didn't seem to hear me. She stumbled forward, her face covered in shadows.
"Hello?" I cried, climbing out of the tub. She didn't look over. "Are you deaf?" Nothing. She pumped a bottle of kiwi-scented lotion and rubbed it on her arms.
The door flung open again, and a snub-nosed, unshaven teenage guy burst in. "Oh." His gaze flew to the girl's tight-fitting T-shirt, which said NEW YORK NEW YORK ROLLERCOASTER on the front. "I didn't know you were in here, Michelle"
"That's maybe why the door was closed?" Michelle pushed him out and slammed it shut. She turned back to the mirror. I stood right behind her. "Hey!" I cried again.
Finally she looked up. My eyes darted to the mirror to meet her gaze. But when I looked into the glass, I screamed.
Because Michelle look exactly like me.
And I wasn't there.
Michelle turned and walked out of the bathroom, and I followed as if something was yanking me along behind her. Who was this girl? Why did we look the same? Why was I invisible? And why couldn't I remember, well, anything? The wrong memories snapped into aching, nostalgic focus- the glittering sunset over the Catalina's, the smell of the lemon trees in my backyard in the morning, the feel of cashmere slippers on my toes. But other things, the most important things, had become muffled and fuzzy, as if I'd lived my whole life underwater. I saw vague shapes, but I couldn't make out what they were. I couldn't remember what I'd done for any summer vacations, who I had my first kiss with, or what it felt like to soak up some sun rays or maybe even me dancing to my favourite song. Wait, what was my favourite song? And even worse, every second that passed, things got fuzzier and fuzzier. Like they were disappearing.
Like I was disappearing.
But then I concentrated really hard and I heard a muffled scream. And suddenly it was like I was somewhere else. I felt pain shooting through my body, before a final, sleepy sensation of my muscles surrendering. As my eyes slowly closed, I saw a blurry, shadowy figure standing over me.
"Oh my God," I whispered.
No wonder Michelle didn't see me. No wonder I wasn't in the mirror. I wasn't really here.
I was dead.
XOxo;
Chapter 1
- The Dead Ringer