I Was Dead. Officially.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
A short story about life, death, and zombies.

Submitted: April 03, 2014

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Submitted: April 03, 2014

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Hey guys, the name is Eli. Look, I'm really bad at intros, so I'll just cut to the chase…

As my story begins my left kidney is being devoured by my neighbor Jeff. He's a zombie, and I guess I'm about to become one too. People are always concerned about how they're going to survive the zombie apocalypse. They never accept the inevitable and think about how they're going to stay undead after they turn, because truthfully, so many people are trying to shoot you in the head when you're a zombie. Thankfully, TV shows and movies have taught me how to avoid getting killed by a survivor after I do turn. Sneaking up on them from behind seems to do the trick. Maybe I'll give that a shot when the time comes.

Here's my outlook on life, or at least the outlook I've developed in the last 30 seconds or so: I'm going to be a zombie, just another member of society when you think about it. Zombies are people too, kind of. No big deal. It's like getting a second life. You could think of it as being reincarnated into another living body. A body that just happens to look like my old body, with a few vital organs spilling out of the torso. That's cool, I've been meaning to lose some weight anyway.

In this new existence of mine, I am given the chance to start fresh and pursue a new life with new goals. Now, my goals might not be as glamorous as yours, but eating people's brains can be just as rewarding as say, building a house or graduating from Harvard. Think about it.

First on my list of goals is to eat Brenda from down the street. I hate her so much. She always brings her dog, Checkers, to my yard to take a dump. We live in a neighborhood of over 100 houses, who all have perfectly poopable front yards, and you always pick mine? Sorry, Brenda, but you've gotta go. Maybe after you turn into a zombie your first goal will be to learn how to pick up your dog's poop off my lawn. Next on the list is Steve, my old boss at the pizza parlor. He used to yell at me for eating pepperonis from the line. Well, Steve, I guess I won't be eating pepperonis anymore. Just your face. Boom. Score one for me.

While trying to think of a third person to eat, my skin started turning green and I got a bunch of open sores on my face. Either I was coming down with some form of Ebola or I was turning into a zombie. I'm thinking zombie, since my jaw just fell off too. I was hoping that wouldn't happen. It's going to be a little harder to eat Steve's face when I'm missing the lower half of my mouth. Luckily I have a very strong and capable palate. My Mom was always proud of me for that.

I got up off the ground and walked towards Brenda's house down the street, but it looked like I got there too late. Someone else already ate her. Great, so my new life was already off to a bad start. I tell ya, I can't even catch a break as a zombie. Oh well. I saw her dog yelping around the front yard, and I was hungry, so I figured I'd settle for Checkers. You gotta eat.

It was around noon, which meant Steve should have been at the pizza parlor for the lunch rush. I made my way down there for today's special. In my case, it was Steve's face. When I got there, I saw a swarm of other zombies trying to get into the building. I was never big into crowds, so I looked for another way in. I knew of an alleyway entrance into the building, so I walked around back. On my way back there I saw an old coworker of mine, Kevin, fighting off a fellow zombie with a baseball bat. I remember him smelling kind of bad all the time, so I decided not to eat him. If I get desperate I'll come back for him later.

Upon entering the restaurant, I saw Steve huddled underneath the front counter. He was breathing heavily, and he didn't notice me coming up to him. This was it, my time to strike. My first human meal was going to be Steve! Just as I leaned down to bite him, he looked at me. He was missing part of his skull and one of his eyeballs was coming out of it's socket. He was already a zombie too!

"GRAHUGHDAMMIT!" I screamed.

Everyone was always getting to my meals before me. This new life sucked. There I was, hungry as hell, the human population seemed to be dwindling by the minute around here, and I couldn’t find anything good to eat. I was so mad I decided to eat Steve's face anyway. Might as well, I was starving and he deserved to be eaten twice anyway. He didn't put up much of a fight. In fact, he was very surprised that I wanted to chow down on him. I guess zombies don't eat zombies very often. I could actually be the first, now that I think about it. Zombie tastes pretty damn good, by the way. In case you were wondering.

After I finished him off I started thinking, maybe I'm onto something. There are plenty of starving zombies out there trying to find something to eat. Maybe they'll be into my new endeavor. And of course, I'm an American, so my next thought was how could I make money off of this? Maybe I could open my own restaurant that serves zombie meat. It's actually quite delicious, I just need to convince other zombies that it's good.

I went outside to that swarm in front of the building. I needed someone to eat so I could pitch to these guys my new zombie eating idea. Luckily I found one laying on the ground that was missing all of it's limbs, so that one was pretty much a freebie. I picked them up and started eating their face. I'm big into faces, if you couldn't tell already. Just as I was getting into it, the strangest thing happened. The crowd of zombies looked over at me and stood completely still. They were motionless, and they had the most awful and disgusted look on their faces. It was crystal clear they didn't approve of my new idea, labeling me a freak in the zombie world for the rest of my undead life. These people, I tell you, they act like they have standards or something. You guys are zombies. You're walking corpses with missing body parts, and all of a sudden I'm the wierdo. Lighten up.

My latest endeavor was quite the failure as well. Maybe I'm not cut out for the undead life either. I left the swarm and started heading down the street. My next plan was to drift endlessly until I found some real food. That's pretty much what any other zombie does around here. I thought I could make something of myself in this new life. I saw it as an opportunity to be something special, but alas, I let myself down again. I was doomed to be just another insignificant zombie roaming the apocalypse.

It was around this time that I ran into Kevin again. Suddenly I didn't care how bad he smelled, I just wanted to taste human flesh at least once in this life. I walked up to him, but he wasn't into the idea of me eating him, so he whipped out his baseball bat and bashed my hips in, effectively ruining my ability to walk. I fell to the ground as he kept throwing his bat into my undead body. He just kept going at it, hitting me in all the places that wouldn't kill me. It's the head, Kevin, the head. You gotta beat me in the head. Kevin was never the brightest guy in the room.

My former coworker kept beating me with his bat, and it didn't look like he was going to give up, so I decided to accept the inevitable and just lie there and take it. I had a good run as a zombie, if you forget the whole eating people requirement. If all you expect from a zombie is to eat people then I guess I was probably pretty terrible. But if you find merit in eating a couple fellow zombies and alienating yourself from a whole group of walking corpses, then I'd say I did okay.

Just then, Kevin took his bat, reached up high in the air with it, and gave me a maniacal look. I could tell this was going to be the final blow. It looked like he finally figured out where to hit to effectively kill me. I saw his arms swing full speed towards my dead, rotting, worthless, underachieving skull, and that was it. I was dead. Officially.


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