Coffee; an essential to wake me up. Mum used to haul me out of my
safe haven bedroom, drag me down the stairs and into the kitchen
where a steaming mug of the black liquid nectar would be waiting
for me. But the best coffee, and hot chocolate for that matter,
came from Starbucks. So many different flavours and types of
syrup. It really was my heaven. Blackwell only had cheap and
tacky coffee that tasted like feet. (And yes, I do know what that
tastes like. Please don't ask.) Once I managed to rouse
myself and get dressed in my uniform, the thought of coffee made
me somewhat happy. But upon reaching the food hall and grabbing
myself a cup, disappointment overwhelmed me. Sluggishly I made my
way to the same table that I sat at last night. I slumped over
the table and contemplated my next move. Start a food fight? No,
that was too simple. Bubbles in the water feature at the front of
the school? Possible, but that would have to wait until I could
by washing powder of something. My thoughts where disturbed my
some person continually poking at my ribs.
'You dead?' whispered a familiar voice. The poking didn't stop,
and I couldn't be bothered speaking up to stop it.
'Is she okay?' came another familiar voice. Lazily I lifted my
head and grimaced at the two of them. Frank let out a fake horror
movie scream and several heads turned in our direction. Rose's
face started to go bright red.
'It's a zombie!' Frank mimicked a girls voice. The on-lookers
either rolled their eyes and smirked or shook their heads in
disgust and looked away. At least some people had a sense of
humour. I turned to Frank and smiled.
'Yeah, I'm a zombie. A de-caffeinated zombie. Who's hungry. Feed
me or I'll eat you.' I said in a ghoulish voice.
'Sounds kinky' he smirked before walking away, adding a hop here
and there. I turned my attention to Rose, who was silently
reading a book whilst eating a bowl of Cornflakes. She had a half
empty glass of orange juice and a half full cup of tea in front
of her. Without disturbing her I tried to read the title of her
book. However, when I attempted to tilt my head just a little to
the right, to finish reading the title, my s.o.b body decided to
jerk my head to the right instead. This caused my head and the
table to collide and I swore colourfully, earning a disapproving
look from the dinning hall supervisor. My reign of terror had
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