Forlot: True and False - Book Four {Completed}

Chapter Eleven

Nighttime had hit the town of Forlot. The sky changed from purple to a pretty blue, and the moon was where the sun had been all day.

The bright moon shined its white light on the town, making the darkness and blackness scurry off. The light was mostly reflecting off of the mansion, seeing that it was a large building and at the top of the hill.

Everybody was sleeping peacefully. Mrs. Sanders. The creatures. Sarah. Scarlett. Stanley. Karla.

But not me.

I was not sleeping peacefully. In fact, I was not sleeping at all. I had never had problems of going to sleep, so this was unusual for me. I tossed and turned, trying to get in the best position, and shut my eyes tight, but I could not fall asleep. It was impossible!

I, however, may have a reason as to why I was having trouble sleeping.

I thought about what Ava said. That we are fictional characters and the evidence that she provided. That fictional characters...have been lied to.

We are fictional.

My friends and family are fictional.

I...am fictional...

...and I did not even know it.

And if I am a fictional character...that means that...

...I am not real.

So that means that...I do not matter?

Questions and statements filled my mind. There was no point in going to sleep now.

I needed answers. Clear answers.

I rubbed my eyes and peered through the darkness to see the alarm clock that was on the stand by my bed.

Twelve o'clock. It was midnight.

I let out a heavy sigh and gave up trying to get some sleep. I sat up and reached for my bag. It was at the other end of my bed. I got it and quietly unzipped it. Gretel was in the same room, and I did not want to wake her up.

I pulled out my game system and turned it on. Then I laid my bag next to me and lied back down. A smile appeared on my face as I began playing my favorite game. It is about two plumbers who save the day.

Wait. Was that a reference?

I played until it was six o'clock in the morning. I heard noises in the hall and downstairs. Footsteps. Voices. Yep. They were getting up.

There was a knock on my and Gretel's bedroom door.

"Hansel? Gretel?" It was Mrs. Sanders. "Are you two awake? I plan on making breakfast as soon as everyone is up."

I glanced at my sister. I only saw the top of her head. The rest of her was covered by the sheets. I did not know whether she was awake or not, but I was extremely hungry. I could feel my stomach rumble as if there were an earthquake in my belly.

"We are up and about!" I lied to Mrs. Sanders. "And we are starving."

I heard Mrs. Sanders giggle. "Good. 'Cause everybody else is up. How do pancakes sound?"

"With maple syrup?"

"Absolutely."

"Alright. You talked me into it."

She giggled again. "That is good to hear. I will go to the kitchen now and get things prepared."

I heard her footsteps trailing off. She had left.

I tossed back my covers and got out of bed. Keeping my eyes on Gretel - or what I could see of her - I quietly tiptoed to her bed and gently shook her.

"Sis?"

I jumped a little as her covers flew back.

There was my sister. Lying on the bed. A moan escaped from her throat.

"Oh..."

I took a good look at her. Her arms and legs were stretched out from the rest of her body. Her hair was a mess. And...her eyes. There were huge bags under her eyes. It looked as if she did not get a goodnight's sleep.

"Sis? What happened to you?" I whispered to her.

"I...I did not get any sleep last night," she admitted.

"What? Why not?"

Just then, the bedroom door opened, and Margie and Nigel entered. Nigel was yawning and like Gretel, Margie had bags under her eyes.

I stared at them. "Morning, Margie. Morning, Nigel. How did you sleep?"

"Not worth a crub," Margie said.

"I could not sleep last night," Nigel commented.

I raised an eyebrow. "That is weird."

Nigel yawned. "What...what is weird?"

"None of us got any sleep last night. Not even me."

Gretel slowly sat up. "I...I wonder how come. Perhaps it was the busy morning that we had yesterday. You know. With Ava."

"And the murder," Margie reminded us.

"I do not think that those are the reasons," I said. "I think that we need answers."

"Answers?" the three of them said at the same time.

"Yes. We just found out yesterday that we are fictional characters. We need to know how and why. I could not sleep because I was too busy thinking about that."

My twin got out of her bed. "I think that you have a point there, Hansel. I am confused about that. The word 'fictional' means 'to not be real.' But we are real...are we not?"

I shrugged. "There is only one way to find out. We must do research."

"Remember yesterday when Ava mentioned about the bookstore?" Nigel reminded the group. "We should probably look for clues there."

I nodded in agreement. "Good idea. Let us get dressed and go!"

Ten minutes later, we were dressed and ready to leave. We told Mrs. Sanders and the others that we were going out for a short walk and would be back soon.

"Okay," Mrs. Sanders said. "But hurry back. That killer is still on the loose."

Strange that Mr. Hawk had not returned to the mansion.

We ran down the sidewalk and soon came to the bookstore. The sign read in big, black letters:

CINDY'S BOOKSTORE.

We were about to head in...

...when we heard a deep voice.

"Where do you think that you are going?"