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 begun.
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