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a friend to zombiesThis story may contain adult content. |
| Written by Crimefighter | |
| Wednesday, 09 July 2008 | |
 I’m so bored, I’m biting my cuticles. It’s sort of comforting, removing that extra skin around my fingernails. Sometimes I push it up just to make sure I get it all. It’s beautiful and sunny outside, but it doesn’t matter because I’m stuck inside my ****** cubicle. I’m looking out the window, longing for the warmth of the sun on my skin. I feel someone hovering over me and I look up; it’s Lauren, my cubicle buddy. This really just means she’s on the other side of my fake wall and that we talk and complain about the same things. She’s watching me bite my cuticles, intently. “Can I have some?” She asks this full of hope and hesitance, not sarcasm, and I sigh. “Maybe I’ll chop off some skin later,” I promise. Poor Lauren. Sometimes I feel so bad for her. About six months ago, there was a zombie outbreak. It was madness -- absolute, undead madness. People got attacked, killed, whatever. It was pretty awful really. Lauren got bitten by one of them nasty things and she basically became a zombie. She looked dreadful, started walking around all slow and mumbling to herself. She lost her tan, stopped caring about her hair – it really just wasn’t her. As a true friend, sometimes you really just have to step in and make the person change – for their own good. We all took turns convincing her, working to get through to her, and it worked! She started using spray on tan, talking in sentences, and styling her hair. No washing though; she tried that once and it just started falling out. So gross. Sometimes however, she can’t deny it. One time we were walking in the mall and some dumb kid had run too fast, slipped and really ****** up his knee. You should have seen her; she went crazy! Sniffing like a dog for the blood and guts I guess – you could tell she was dying for a taste. It was the hardest thing to drag her away. I really didn’t want to anyway since that kid was obviously dumb and my poor zombie friend was hungry. Unfortunately, if the police find out you’re helping zombies, it’s like holding a fugitive. They assume that every one of them are just blood thirsty cannibals and need to be locked up for the good of society. Not true. Really, she gets by. For her birthday, I cut off a chunk of my leg and gave it to her with some frosting. It made me kind of woozy, but she looked so happy and hungry. At lunchtime, I cut off some of the fat from my thighs and peel the skin off my right arm. Lauren smells it right away and makes a beeline to where I am. “Is that for me?” she asks with such excitement it makes me grin despite the fact that I’m bleeding heavily and in a lot of pain. “No silly it’s for me!” I joke, and push it towards her. She scarfs it up so fast its gone as soon as I place the knife in the sink. She smiles at me, her teeth, lips and chin covered in my blood. “You’re such a good friend.” I smile, and start limping to the door. “Anytime, friend,” I say. My blood is pouring out fast and I think I’m starting to see double. I need bandages now. “Anytime.” Copyright 2008 Crimefighter |
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