March 2045

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Science Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
A letter from a teenage boy, post-zombie apocalypse to an unknown reader.

Submitted: October 24, 2013

A A A | A A A

Submitted: October 24, 2013



MARCH 2045


To Whoever finds this,


Zombies are living among us. No, they’re not breathing or expelling waste, but they are going about their daily lives. I saw one mail a letter the other day. A LETTER. Who does a zombie have to send a letter to? I mean, he probably ate his whole family years ago.

Oh, you have so many questions now. I’m getting to them. First though, I’m telling you my story. Sort of.

My mom was born during the Zombie Apocalypse. Or, if you’d rather I be politically correct, the Disease Era. My grandparents both died at some point during the chaos, but Mom was raised by a group of refugees who managed to keep their brains from being eaten.

Actually, I’d like to pause here to correct myself. I was working off a stereotype there, but if you’re reading this in the future or if you’re from a different planet, you need to know the truth. Zombies don’t just eat brains. They eat flesh of any kind. That’s why we’re able to keep them contained these days, at least for now. They eat our dead. No more burying corpses. That’s kind of gross anyways, why did people ever think that was a good idea?

Then there was my dad. He was 4 years old when the disease struck. He was bitten really early on and his hand had to be amputated, but they were able to stop the spread of the Strigoi virus and he never became a zombie. Anyways, as you probably guessed, my father was part of the same refugee group as my mother, so they grew up together and dire situations and hatred of zombies brought them together. Great Hollywood story. Or I think it is. Hollywood isn’t a thing anymore.

That’s the funny thing about humans, isn’t it? They make all these scenarios up and turn them into movies, but no one ever takes them seriously or truly prepares for something that could happen. I’ve watched a ton of zombie movies and even though there isn’t a single one that gets them totally right, there’s a lot of stuff that was predicted correctly. So why weren’t we coming up with answers to the zombie problem, just in case? Next I hope aliens invade, and we’ll see how we deal with that one.

Last week, there was this big revelation that the zombies had formed a political party. Party Z, of course was the name. I think they probably thought “Flesh-Eating Party” sounded a little too much like a typical Saturday night for them.

Okay, I know that joke was bad.

Anyway, so the zombies want to represent themselves in the parliament, because they have needs that differ from the human population and they want their voices to be heard. They’re also pissed about some racism that’s been going on. Yeah, zombies are more sensitive than you’d think.

Oh! This is important. My Uncle Fred is a zombie. I can’t believe I didn’t tell you that already. The thing is, we don’t see Uncle Fred very often because, well, my dad’s a bit pissed at him. Yeah, he’s the guy who munched on Dad’s hand. And tried to eat his face. So, he stops by for birthdays and stuff.

They’re still pretty similar to humans, you know. Except that they can’t really talk. The few things they do say take forever to get out. I mean, like forever! And that might be okay for a zombie. They can only die if you sever their brain stem. Basically, they live forever.


By the time they’re done discussing their platforms and what they want changed, I’ll probably be dead anyway, so I’m not worried about it.

Okay, fine, I’ll tell you more about what the zombies eat. I know that you probably don’t care about politics. Even politicians don’t care about politics.

So, there’s these little buildings set up outside of hospitals. All the dead bodies go there and then the zombies go in and get their portions and that’s that. Easy. And environmentally efficient. I guess some people are pissed because they don’t want their loved ones to become Zombie Snacks.Would you rather have them buried in the ground to be Worm Snacks? Everyone’s gonna get munched on someday, it’s just a matter of who’s doing the munching.

I went to a graveyard on a history trip last May. Holy, it was the creepiest place. Just all those dead bodies, rotting there underground. Who would want to go there when they die?

They’re also talking about teaching us Zombie anatomy in schools. Which I’m all for because I really want to know whether or not they go to the bathroom. It’s not really something I know how to politely ask Uncle Fred, and I also have no desire to spend three hours waiting for an answer. And I’ve never seen a zombie in a public restroom.

I do know that zombies can’t procreate. Thank goodness, because human babies are creepy enough, I can’t even imagine what they would be like with dead eyes and saggy flesh. Also, can you imagine two zombies doing it?

So, that’s where we’re at right now with the zombies. A civilized society, for now. Mostly because the zombies know that they need the human race for food and humans don’t want to get their faces chewed on.

So, I hope if you’re reading this, things are still going well. I’ll continue writing as things continue to change on the zombie front.


Best wishes, 

Johnny Uman

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