by R. L. Stine
“Let’s just get out of the park,” I said. “We can try to figure it out later.”
“Do you really think there’s an exit in Good-bye Land?” Billy asked.
“Only one way to find out,” I said.
Good-bye Land stood behind a tall hedge. The hedge rose up way over our heads.
No way to climb it. I trotted along in its shadow, looking for an opening. Finally, I saw a tiny space.
I scrunched up my body. Turned sideways. And pushed myself through the hedge.
Brushing prickly needles off me, I gazed around. I was in a wide grassy park. A patch of tall trees threw a long shadow over the grass.
No people anywhere in sight. No Horrors or MP’s.
A wide empty park.
I turned back to the hedge. Where were the others?
“Hey!” I opened my mouth to call to them.
But a hand wrapped around my mouth from behind. Then another hand wrapped around my waist — and dragged me into the trees.
The hands let go. I spun around — and stared at two gigantic Horrors.
I let out an angry roar. The monster in me took over. I balled my hands into tight fists. I got ready to attack them both.
“What’s the big idea?” I screamed. “What do you think you’re doing? My friends and I are Very Special Guests here. Have you all gone crazy?”
They both motioned for me to calm down. I read the name tags on the front of their purple uniforms. One was named Benson. The other was Clem.
“Easy, kid,” Benson said. “No one is going to hurt you.”
“Were you trying to leave? You were — weren’t you!” Clem said. “We can’t let you leave the park. You and your friends have to stay here.”
“Why?” I yelled. “This is a free country! I can go anywhere I want!”
“You and your friends think you’ve figured everything out,” Benson said. “But you don’t know what you’re doing.”
“I know what I’m doing,” I shot back. “I’m going to get my friends out of danger.”
“Look, kid,” Benson said. “We’ve had a few small problems here. I’ll admit it. A few things went wrong.”
“But we need you to stay here,” his partner said. “Take it easy. Enjoy the park, Michael. And stop being such a troublemaker.”
“No way!” I cried. “If you think I’m a troublemaker, too bad. Someone is out to get us here. Someone is trying to hurt us. And I’m going to get out of this park and take my friends with me. Then we’re going to tell the whole world what goes on here.”
They narrowed their eyes to slits. Their expressions turned angry. They took a few steps toward me.
I raised my fists and prepared to fight them.
But a third Horror suddenly appeared. “I’ll handle this,” he boomed. He waved Benson and Clem away. “You can go. I’ve got this kid.”
This new Horror was tall and athletic looking. He had short yellow horns on top of wavy green hair. His fat nose and tiny chin made him look a lot like a pug dog.
He waited for the other two to leave. Then he turned to me. I saw that he had taken off his name tag. “Michael,” he said, “you want out of HorrorLand — don’t you?”
I didn’t answer his question. Instead, I took a few steps back. “Who are you?” I demanded. “Why did you take off your name tag? What are you planning to do to me?”
“I’m going to help you,” he said softly. He pulled a small square mirror from his pocket. “You want to go, Michael. So I’m going to help you go.”
“Huh?” I squinted at him. Then I gazed into the mirror.
I suddenly felt strange. Off-balance. I felt a strong pull from the mirror. As if I were being drawn to it by a powerful magnet.
“Go ahead,” the Horror urged. “Don’t fight it, Michael. You want to leave, remember? I’m helping you leave. Go with it…. Go with it….”
His voice faded as I was pulled … pulled toward the glass. Pulled to my reflection in the little mirror.
So strange …
I could feel the smoothness of the glass … the cool liquid feel of it …
Deeper into the glass … deeper. And then through it!
Through the mirror.
A rush of cold air blew over me. It made me shut my eyes.
I felt myself falling. I struggled to catch my balance.
When I opened my eyes, the Horror … the trees … the grass … all had disappeared.
“Hey — where am I?” I cried out loud.
I gazed around. I was standing in a huge amusement park. But I didn’t recognize anything.
I squinted, waiting for my eyes to focus. I saw roller coasters high in the sky. And a Ferris wheel with cars shaped like sharks and alligators.
And then … my eyes stopped at a red-and-white sign. It had big bloodred letters across it: PP.
PP? Panic Park?
Was this really Panic Park?
“Hey, I’m in Panic Park! I found it. I found Panic Park!” I shouted.
Then I felt a wave of fear slide over me.
I glanced around, my heart pounding. But … where IS Panic Park? I wondered. And … how do I get back to my friends?
“Julie — wait up!” My best friend, Reena Jacobs, ran across the school hallway toward me. Her blond ponytail bobbed behind her. “Is that a new camera?”
I shook my head. “It’s one of my old cameras.” It swung from a strap around my neck. “Dad says he’ll buy me a new one if I get the big assignment from Mr. Webb.”
Reena blinked her green eyes. “Big assignment?”
I gave her a shove. “Reena, I’ve only been talking about it for months. Remember? To shoot the entire student body for the big two-page spread in the Tiger?” That’s the name of our yearbook.
Reena scrunched up her face. “I thought Mr. Webb already chose David Blank for that.”
“Well, you thought wrong,” I said. “That’s why I’m hurrying to the Tiger office. I’ve got an awesome idea. No way Mr. Webb can say no to it. David can sit on his butt and watch me take the photo!”
Reena laughed. “You don’t like David — do you?”
I rolled my eyes. “Does a lettuce like a goat?”
She frowned at me. “Goat? I don’t get that, Julie.”
With her light blond hair and big green eyes, Reena is very pretty. I think she’s the prettiest girl at Twin Forks Middle School. And she’s smart, too.
But she only understands straight talk.
“I meant David tries to gobble up everything,” I explained. “He wants to be the only star. Mr. Webb asked me to shoot the bake sale in the gym last week. And when I showed up, guess who was there.”
“David?”
“You got it,” I said.
“He’s very competitive,” Reena said. Then she grinned. “But I think he’s kind of cute.”
“Cute?” I stuck my finger down my throat. “With that bright orange hair and those orange freckles? He looks like a carrot!”
“You have vegetables on the brain,” Reena said.
“No, I’ve got pictures on the brain,” I said. “I can be just as competitive as David. I really want to take that big photo. That’s why I want to get to the yearbook office before David does.”
I turned and started to jog down the hall. It was nearly three-thirty, and the school had emptied out.
“Julie —” Reena called after me. “Are we still going bike riding on Saturday?”
“I’ve got to watch Sammy in the morning,” I said. Sammy is my little brother. “We can ride all afternoon.”
I turned the corner and bumped right into the Sneer Sisters.
Actually, Becka and Greta aren’t sisters. They’re best best friends. I’ve never seen them apart.
I call them the Sneer Sisters because they both always sneer when they see me. Like I smell like rotten meat or something. And they’re always so totally mean to me.
They even look a little alike. They are both tall and very skinny, and they both h
ave long noses and kind of pointy chins. Like witch chins.
“Hi, Ju-Ju,” Becka said, sneering.
I gritted my teeth. She knows I hate to be called Ju-Ju. That’s what I called myself when I was too little to say the name Julie.
Greta pointed at my mouth. “Ju-Ju, you have something on your front teeth,” she said.
I rubbed my teeth with my pointer finger. “Is it gone?” I asked her.
Greta nodded. “Yeah. It was your finger!”
They both slapped high fives and cackled like that was the funniest joke in history.
“Where did you get that joke?” I said. “First grade or second?” I pushed past them and hurried down the hall. My camera bounced in front of me as I jogged.
The yearbook office was the last door on the left. I grabbed the knob, twisted it, and burst inside.
And then I gasped as I was blinded by an explosion of white.
R.L. Stine’s books are read all over the world. So far, his books have sold more than 300 million copies, making him one of the most popular children’s authors in history. Besides Goosebumps, R.L. Stine has written the teen series Fear Street and the funny series Rotten School, as well as the Mostly Ghostly series, The Nightmare Room series, and the two-book thriller Dangerous Girls. R.L. Stine lives in New York with his wife, Jane, and Minnie, his King Charles spaniel. You can learn more about him at www.RLStine.com.
Goosebumps book series created by Parachute Press, Inc.
Goosebumps HorrorLand #7: My Friends Call Me Monster
copyright © 2009 by Scholastic Inc.
All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Inc., Publishers since 1920. SCHOLASTIC, GOOSEBUMPS, GOOSEBUMPS HORRORLAND, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.
First printing, January 2009
e-ISBN 978-0-545-30075-9
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