Prologue September 12th, 2011 Exactly one year has passed since I died. Eleven months and three weeks since I rose from the grave and was revived as a zombie. And three weeks since I moved in to my Aunt Carolyn's house in Ambridge, Michigan. It's a suburban town with a moderate population of a few thousand people. It's sunny but cool here, which is good I suppose. I like it here, especially Aunt Carolyn's house. It's a little two-story house at the edge of town. People won't come here very often, which is fine. It's cute; it has a tiled roof and peach-colored walls on the outside with a little fence around it and a flower garden. There's even a big tree with a tire swing- something I've never had before and look forward to using. For obvious reasons, I came here after my parents realized I couldn't live in Arizona anymore. A week after my death-which I don't remember- I woke up in a coffin at a funeral home just days before my burial. I found my way home and managed convince my mother I was alive after I calmed her down. She was hysterical, believing I was a ghost that came to haunt her. Dad had a similar reaction: he fainted. My younger brother, Ethan, came up with the conclusion that I was a zombie. He was the only one who underreacted to my reappearance as well. Most people scream and run after seeing a supposedly dead person, right? But not my brother. He loved all kinds of creepy stuff. At the funeral, a coffin was buried, but there wasn't a body to go with it. Before that, Mom and Dad instructed the people at the funeral home to keep my coffin closed under the pretense of religious practices. Nobody else had ever seen me again. For a year, I lived as a recluse in my house and discovered the conditions of my body. I had no heartbeat, which I realized after watching a horror movie. Usually, I screamed my head off at those. I would also begin to petrify if the temperature got too warm, which was a problem in Arizona. And to my family. The air conditioning constantly had to be on, which raised the bills and the need for jackets and sweaters. I could feel the heat but not the cold, perhaps because only the heat could harm zombies, which is what I'm assuming myself to be. I also didn't have to eat, but sleep was essential. Once, I was asleep for thirty-eight hours. My brother, who had found me, thought I was dead again. And my family couldn't call 911 because I was already supposed to be dead. When I woke up, they were debating whether" or not they should really bury me. It turns out that my body just uses sleep to refuel rather than food. After a year of this madness, my mom finally called her younger sister in Michigan and told her everything. Aunt Carolyn was pretty cool about it and was more than happy to let me live with her. And here I am now. Tomorrow's Tuesday, and I'm going to school again. I'll be a sophomore at Marion High School. I'm feeling anxious, but excited too. I never could have thought that I was able to continue living normally after death, but I guess after becoming an undead teenager, anything is possible.
September 13th, 2011 7:34 a.m. I walked into my pre-calculus class cautiously, my shoulders hunched and my head low. The class was only half full, but I could already feel the smoldering stares of new peers behind me. I approached the teacher, a middle-aged man whose name was Mr. Leroy. He was a stout person, barely as tall as me, who was only five- foot three, with a balding head that had a few tuffs of white hair, and rectangular glasses that framed squinty little eyes. To me he looked comical, almost like a cartoon character. "Marie Avant, correct?" he verified. His voice was deeper than I expected. I imagined he had a squeaky high voice that matched his tiny little body. "Yes, sir," I said. "Well, welcome to Marion," he said, and motioned for me to take an empty seat near the back. I took out what materials I needed for the class: my textbook, a notebook, and a pencil. I pretended not to notice the obvious attention I was receiving as more students arrived. I took in the classroom. Both the front and back walls were covered with whiteboards, on which several things were written, from homework to schedules to complicated mathematical equations. The right side of the room- the one I sat next to- had windows going all across it. I could see that the classroom faced the field where P.E. classes took place. Several students were running and warming up in black athletic shorts and red t-shirts. It was sunny outside. The left wall was covered with tests of students who scored a hundred. Finally, the bell rang and the rest of the class seated themselves. Mr. Leroy clapped his hands and brought everyone to attention. "Good morning, class. Today you'll be taking a pop quiz and reviewing for the test on Friday. You'll also have a quiz tomorrow and self-study Thursday." I heard groans and complaints all around me as he made these announcements. "You can see that we have a new student in our class. Please make Marie feel welcome. Oh, and don't worry about the tests; you won't have to take them." I nodded in appreciation, and looked back down at my desk rather than meet the looks of the rest of the class. I concluded that the glowering looks could only mean they were not happy with my special "new student treatment." Class started then, with me looking around aimlessly as everyone struggled to finish the quiz. Then Mr. Leroy started discussing logarithmic functions and properties. I half-listened, since I didn't have to take notes. I was relieved that I didn't have homework for this class all week, which would make my settling in much easier. Mr. Leroy turned out to be a cool teacher. He gave out candy for correct answers and made jokes and teased other students. He even gave me a jolly rancher for doing nothing. I guess that meant I made a good enough impression on him, and was still on his good side. I made a mental note to never sleep especially in this class, since he hit the boy in front of me when he began snoring. Rather hard, I might add. I was becoming bored when the bell rang. I shoved my books in my bag and hurried to find my next class. I came to school extra early today to familiarize myself with the campus, but only succeeded in getting lost thrice and merely finding my first period class. The school was just one giant building which was very impressive. I read that it used to be a private school in the 1900's and was owned by some wealthy businessman, hence the old yet remarkable design. It reminded me of Hogwarts, except without all the magic, which was a bummer. I was too shy to ask for directions, which left me the choice of wandering around stupidly until I found my next class. Luckily, help came before I could get lost again. "Hey, newbie!" I turned, since I was the only newbie I knew as of present. A girl whom I could only describe as perky stood in front of me. She had blonde hair tied up in a high ponytail, and brown eyes. She wore a pleated skirt and a matching V-neck sweater. I presumed she could have been either a cheerleader or a student council member. Or both. "Your name's Marie, right? What's your next class? " she asked. I nodded and looked down at my schedule. "English, with Mr. Rawson." "Great! That's near my next class. I'll take you there. My name's Shannon Brigham, by the way. But don't ever call me by my last name cuz I absolutely hate it, for obvious reasons. And I love your sweatshirt." I was wearing a white pullover that had bunny ears on the hood and paws on the pockets. I even had a cotton tail on the back. I nodded. I was grateful for someone to show me where my class was, and that I had already made a friend. Or rather, she had made friends with me. She was very nice, and quite talkative. She told me all kinds of things during our short ten-minute passing period. She told me that Mr. Rawson was an "extremely young and handsome teacher, with to-die-for blue eyes and such a seductive voice that you wouldn't mind spending a few detentions with him." Her words, not mine. She warned me not to use the bathroom on the second floor because the plumbing was bad and there was never toilet paper there. She said not to get close to Todd Benson because he was creepy and to never eat the pudding in the cafeteria because no one knew if it was actually pudding or not. I waved at her as she headed to her next class and stepped into my own. I spotted the teacher by the other door and immediately agreed with Shannon, though not in the way she explained. Mr. Rawson looked young enough to be a student here. It was only his facial hair that gave him away. He had very blue eyes and dark hair that was sleek and swept back, like in the movie Grease. He had a straight nose and a strong jawline, though everything about his face was prominent enough. "Mr. Rawson," I greeted. "What!?" he turned to face me suddenly, actually frightening me so that I jumped back a little. He glared down at me. "I-I-I'm the new student," I stuttered. Shannon had gone on and on about how good-looking this teacher was, yet had never mentioned that he was unreasonably ill-tempered. He raised his eyebrows. "New student? Yes, I've never seen you before, but I was never notified of a new student. You're not in this class." I tilted my head. "But sir, your name is on my schedule. I should be in this class." His nostrils flared. I shrank back. "I told you. I wasn't notified of a new student. Who are you to tell me who should or shouldn't be in my class?" he was steadily increasing his volume. By now the bell had already rung and the other students were looking at us. "B-but sir, my-" "You're disrupting my class." "I-I'm sorry but-" "Get out of my classroom." "Sir-" "Now!" I all but ran out of the room, shaking with fear. I agreed with Mr. Rawson: I shouldn't be in his class! I did poorly under pressure and I wouldn't be able to work at all with such a scary teacher constantly breathing down my neck. I breathed a sigh and leaned against a wall. I planned on transferring classes in the office once school was dismissed. I couldn't go back into the room again; I was too terrified anyway, so I settled on finding my third period class, which was Spanish. I climbed up a couple staircases, searching for a class that should've been on the fourth floor. Ten minutes later, I ended up on the sixth. I went back down two floors, and looked for classroom D-16. The bell rang again and other students were pouring out of the classrooms. I still couldn't find the classroom. I finally found it at the end of a hallway. With three minutes left to spare. Mrs. Gonzales was a teacher who took a liking to me very quickly. Perhaps it was due to the previous three years in which I had already taken the language class. I answered all the questions she asked me quickly and without hesitation. In Spanish, of course. She let me sit wherever I wanted, and didn't bother me for the rest of the period. It was similar to first period, which passed by fast. I was walking out of the room when I felt someone tap my shoulder. I turned to face a rather short boy who was dark-haired and wore thick-framed glasses. I should've said he reminded me of Mr. Leroy, because they were around the same height, but they were more different than alike. This guy didn't look like a cartoon character. "Hi, my name's Harley Elton," he said. And we hit it off immediately. We had many of the same interests and luckily, three classes together: Spanish, Biology, and P.E. Now I had someone to follow so I wouldn't get lost, hopefully. We talked about music and books, and I found out many other things. Like how he was a total nerd and had a dog named Chi. I was doing a happy dance in my head, "I got a new friend!" Lunch came, and Shannon found me in the hallway. "Come sit with me and my friends!" I turned to Harley as if asking permission, though I was only checking if it was fine with him. ....That still sounds like I'm asking for permission. He nodded shyly, suddenly bashful, and quickly went off elsewhere. I guess I'd see him later. Shannon dragged me through the lunch line, dumping on my tray what she deemed as edible food, which there wasn't much of. In the end, I was sitting with a rowdy group of people eating pizza that looked like cardboard. At least it looked like cardboard. I didn't bother to taste it because I couldn't eat it anyway. The rest of the table had fun throwing it at each other though. There were eleven people at our table, though there were only seven seats, so some of them sat on the table. There was Hayden and Jayden Anderson: two blonde-haired, green-eyed twins who were quite difficult to tell apart, Mathew Lee, a lanky guy with two piercings in each ear, and Leon Davis, an apparent jock who was very funny. Denise Moore was a pretty girl who seemed somewhat of a distant person. I didn't know if she liked me or not. There were also David Cruz and his best friend Gavin Baler, who had matching orange backpacks. Kylie Dina had red hair and a personality much similar to Shannon's: perky, very perky. Lastly there was Tricia Denton, a quiet girl who sat next to me. I got along with her the most. They were a fun bunch who seemed like they irritated the heck out of everyone else, whether on purpose or that was just the flow of things. At least, that's what I got from the looks of others around us. They asked me general questions about myself, such as how I liked the school and where I lived before. Fortunately, they didn't interrogate any deeper, though I don't have the slightest notion of how they were to discover my condition as a zombie unless they asked directly. You could say I'm a little paranoid about the subject, and I would deny that verbally. I do admit that I'm a little sensitive about it, though. Lunch ended and Harley found me again, thankfully, and we headed to Biology. The rest of the day passed quickly and pleasantly. I was pleased that I made it through without incident, with the exception of my conversation with Mr. Rawson, if it could even be called that. It was more of a one-sided berating. I stepped into the office, and wriggled uncomfortably at the warmth. The heater must've been on. I looked for Ms. Deborah, my assigned counselor as it read on my schedule. "Ms. Avant, I'm sorry but no other English classes are available. I'm afraid that you'll have to remain in Mr. Rawson's class," Ms. Deborah looked stoic, and I thought she spoke like a computer system. I could imagine her voice as one of those machine-generated female voices. And this wasn't just because I wasn't getting what I wanted. I nodded and turned to go. I guess I'll have to deal with the short-fused English teacher for the rest of the year. The thought of it alone alarmed me. Walking out of the school gates, I looked up and down the street for Aunt Carolyn's car. I could've biked back to the house, but my aunt was strongly against it and insisted on fetching me for the time being. "Your mom's going to have my neck if you get hurt under my custody," she told me. "And I rather you drive yourself places than get kidnapped riding a bike." Having said that, my dear aunt was really planning on giving me driving lessons though I was barely fifteen, reasoning it was easier so she wouldn't have to drive back and forth from work. I saw her Mercedes pull up to the curb and jogged to it. "How was your first day?" she asked as I got in. I shrugged, "It was fine. Pretty boring, but at least I got no homework." "That's nice. Anyway, we're having dinner with the neighbors later this week. They have a kid your age. Not many families live on this street, you see, so it's good to know the ones that do. Otherwise, you'd be befriending old geezers, though that's not a bad thing. They're all sweet people, especially the Gibbons. I've known them since I was a little older than you. There's also the Hopkins, a new couple who moved in two years ago. I'm quite close with them, actually. The wife, Kimberly, is expecting soon... " Aunt Carolyn rambled on about our fellow Meadow Street dwellers, and I nodded at everything she said, not really paying attention. My aunt was a very talkative person, as you could already notice. But I suppose that's fine, since she's the only person I'm living with. I spent the rest of the day reading and listening to music through the new speaker system Mom bought me before moving away. September 13th, 2011 School was better than I thought. I made a bunch of new friends and the other students didn't even notice I was a resurrected soul at all. I won't be able to attend when it gets warmer though, which makes me a bit sad. But for now, I'm happy. I know if someone were to find this journal, they'd probably think I'm some weird teenager obsessed with the paranormal, based on previous entries. Or perhaps they'd actually believe the content here. Either way, I'll be in deep trouble. That's why I decided that after each page in this notebook is filled, I'll discard it. I guess I just wanted some remainder of myself while I was still alive and kicking (excuse the pun), because no one could understand me if I spoke to them, even my family who knows of my condition. No one could recognize how I feel. So if I wrote down my current life, I'd feel content and no one would have to try and understand me, which is the best outcome, I guess. The last paragraph seemed really poetic and "deep," if you know what I mean. Hence, I'll be more upbeat and write about positive things. Later this week, I'm meeting the family across the street: the Petersons. Another chance to be more social, which is what I'm aiming to be. I just need to think how I'm going to pass on eating. Probably say I ate earlier. I wonder what kind of person their kid is. During the weekend, I'll take a look at the town. I heard from Harley, a new friend, that there's a really good music store at the corner of Main and Linton. That's first on my list. There's also gymnasium near the park. I did acrobatics before, and I'm looking to see if I still have some skills. This week is going to be busy.
Feed back would be appreciated -TF Chapter 2 September 15th, 2011 8:17 p.m. The last few days have passed in a blur. School was as enjoyable as ever (not being sarcastic, I'm quite serious). I talked over music and books with Harley and debated over fashion with Shannon and Kylie. Though the two were complete opposites of me, we got along fairly well. Even better than I expected. They even persuaded me to try out for cheer squad after discovering my past experience as a gymnast. How, I don't know. Mr. Rawson was finally convinced that I was his student just today after a meeting with Ms. Deborah. He still didn't like me though. I could feel his eyes burning holes in the back of my head during class. As of present, I'm in the house across the street from my own. I was lying on the sofa while everyone else is in the dining room. Here is a recount of how this situation came to be: As previously mentioned, Aunt Carolyn had planned for us to have dinner with the neighbors as a sort of welcome for me. She told me I could feign sickness when it was time to eat so I wouldn't be painfully regurgitating food I couldn't digest. Which is what happens when a zombie eats food, as I've found out. "Hello there. I'm George and this is my wife, Adrianna. You must be Lynn. Nice to meet you," Mr. Peterson, whom I now know as George, smiled at me. I assumed he smiled a lot, because he had lines from his constantly up turned lips and crinkles around his eyes. His wife was a lovely woman, who was taller than him by quite a lot, and had the same lines and crinkles. I shook each of the hands they offered and smiled in return. Aunt Carolyn gave George a hug and kissed Adrianna on the cheek. It turns out they were close friends from college. In the house, everything was mismatched in disarray, and yet had a comfy and warm atmosphere. The walls were a cream color with pictures of various things in different shaped and colored frames. Family portraits, animals, landscapes, cars, et cetera, et cetera. The living room had zebra-striped rug spread on the floor and two sofas, one maroon and one blue. The coffee table was covered with old newspapers and mail. A little golden cat figure sat in the center, its paw waving at us. We sat down and talked awhile. They asked the same questions everyone else did: how I liked Ambridge, if I had settled in, or how I was doing in school. "Our son, Nathan, attends Marion as well. He's a nice boy, have you met him yet?" Adrianna asked. I shook my head. Marion was a large school, larger than most, and I had only been there for little less than a week. "Oh, well then you'll be meeting him tonight. He's out right now, don't know where that son of mine goes. I don't worry about him, though. He's very responsible." The door clicked and opened. We turned our heads to a boy my age wearing a red beanie and leather jacket. Presumably Nathan. He greeted each of his parents with a kiss and gave Aunt Carolyn a hug. "Nathan, this is Lynn, my niece," Aunt Carolyn introduced me. We nodded at each other. I noticed he had light eyes, a pale blue color. "Rawson's new irritant, right?" he asked me. I tilted my head, "I guess so." "I'm in your class, by the way." I raised a brow. I hadn't known anyone in my class, only Samantha Parker, my seat mate. She was a weird girl. "I'm going to my room," he announced. "We're having steak for dinner," Adrianna called after him as he headed up the stairs. I suddenly felt faint. I sat back down, and tried to participate in the conversation. I bobbed my head at whatever was said, and strained to follow the flow of talk. "Are you alright, Lynn?" Aunt Carolyn asked me. She put a hand to my head. "You're looking pale." "I'm fine," I tried to reassure her. But I was wobbly even though I was seated and sweltering even though I couldn't sweat. If that made sense. "Maybe you're hungry," George offered. "I know I am, after all this talk. Shall we eat?" We stood, but I suddenly gasped and fell back. It was as if I had taken a blow to the stomach. I was in so much pain. Aunt Carolyn and Adrianna rushed to me and helped me lie on the couch. I held my head. The lights in the room were so bright, and everything was so loud. I wanted to wreck everything in the room so none of it could bother me. But the pain... it was everywhere, crawling from inside my skull to my innards to my arms and legs. I curled into a ball, wishing the pain away. I couldn't comprehend what was happening anymore. I shut my eyes closed and grit my teeth together. Then, as fast as it came, the pain went away. I heaved and opened my eyes. Everyone was standing above me, worry written on their faces. Then I closed my eyes again. When I woke up, I realized that I had passed out from the pain. What the hell happened? That was the first time anything like that had happened to me. Weren't zombies unfeeling or something? I heard voices and the clinking of metal on dishes. I stood up from the couch, perhaps too fast because I staggered back from dizziness. I went to the kitchen and peeked into the dining room. They had probably finished dinner because they were eating cheesecake and drinking wine. George saw me and quickly stood up. "You're awake! You scared us there for a second. If you don't remember, you were in pain and you fainted. Are you alright now? Would you like to eat?" I shook my head. "I actually would just like to go home and rest for the night. I'm sorry for ruining your evening, but thank you for having me." George and Adrianna nodded at this. "Alright. Feel better, you hear? And you're welcome back anytime, okay Lynn?" I smiled in thanks. Aunt Carolyn stood to leave with me, but Adrianna held her down. "Nathan will take her home; you don't have to leave yet, Carolyn." I looked at Nathan, who had been eating his cheesecake quietly. Without a word, we put his fork down and stood to put on a jacket and walk me across the street. I realized how ridiculous that was. "You don't have to; it's right across the street-" I started. "Don't worry about it," he interjected. "Anyway, it's safer that way. Besides, what if you have another fit?" I opened my mouth to argue, but found no reason to oppose his. I followed him out the door. It was cold and dark outside. I shivered even though I was already wearing four layers. Soon, it would be snowing. Our feet crunched on fallen leaves as we walked to my front door. I unlocked the door and turned to thank him. Then my back was against the wall, Nathan's hand on my throat. "Listen, you low-class demon," he hissed in my ear. I could feel his warm breath against my jaw. "You try anything in this town, and I will kill you." My eyes widened at this. "W-w-what?" I choked out. "It's obvious already, isn't it? I know you're a zombie, and once I find your necromancer, you're dead." What the hell was he talking about? "I-I don't know what you're talking about!" I cried. "Oh, stop pretending. I said I'd wait until I found your master. And you're already dead, so you shouldn't worry about dying again, right? Anyway, don't you dare try anything, especially on Aunt Carolyn." With that, he released my neck and I fell onto the porch, gasping for air. He stomped off, back to his house. Scared that he might come back, I hurried inside and locked the door shut. Then I ran up to my room and hid under the covers. Tired and stressed from everything that happened, I fell asleep quickly. I didn't want to think about anything, especially what had just occured. I was in a cemetery. There were headstones and angel statues all around me. It was an early, cloudy morning and the cold air and dew smelled fresh to me. Then I saw my family; my mom, my dad, Ethan, even Aunt Carolyn. They stood in front of me, solemn expressions on their faces. I reached out to them, wanting to comfort them and get rid of whatever was causing them sadness. But my hands went through them. I frowned in confusion. Why couldn't I touch them? I tried and tried to grasp my family, but it seemed like I would never be able to make contact. They didn't seem to realize I was there either. I missed them. I missed them so much. Mom started crying. Ethan looked as if he were holding back tears. Dad just stayed by Mom and patted her shoulders. Aunt Carolyn was hugging her. I turned, not wanting to see such a painful scene. And I saw my own gravestone. Lynn Avant December 1st, 1996 - September 12th, 2010 At this I began crying. I fell to the ground and sobbed over my grave. I missed being alive. I missed being human. But now I was dead.
Yay another part I feel like I can improve my story a bit, any ideas? :/ -TF Chapter 3 September 16th, 2011 12:49 p.m. I had woken from the nightmare in the middle of the night. I was glad I woke up, because that meant it hadn't been true, though it was in a way. I really was dead, and that separated me from everything and everyone. I had gone back to sleep, but it seemed that when I closed my eyes, morning had already come. I was still thinking about the night's events. I shook the thought off. Because of Nathan's threat, I had begun worrying over my condition. But who was he to threaten me like that!? I had only met him yesterday and he promises to kill me! What a complete jerk! I then realized that it was already noon and it was Friday. Going to school now would be pointless. I freshened up and tied up my hair in a ponytail. Pulling on a pair of sweats and a hoodie, I headed outside for a run. I seriously need a distraction, and running was perfect for it. Before my death, I absolutely loathed running. Or any kind of exercise, as a matter of fact. I'd tire easily and I was naturally slow. But now I was quite fast and I didn't grow weary until after a while, which made running a whole lot more enjoyable. Jogging up the street I hummed along to the mainstream music that was playing on my MP3. I usually didn't listen to mainstream, but it was good for running because its upbeat rhythms kept one motivated. I ran to the outside market and made two rounds around the park before I decided to rest. I sat on a bench and tilted my head back. I closed my eyes against the sun and breathed deeply. Feeling tired was almost like feeling alive again. "Well, look who it is," a voice to my right said. I turned and saw the last person I wanted to see. Nathan. Despite the panic in my stomach I kept on an indifferent expression. "Shouldn't you be in school?" I asked. "Shouldn't you?" he retorted. "Besides," he sat down on the other end of the bench. "You're not the only one who can skip." I fought the urge to squirm away. "Touché." "How did you know?" I asked. He knew exactly what I was talking about. I wasn't going to try to hide my condition if he already knew, and I was curious as to how he found out. "Are you stupid? Of course I'd know. I'm a necromancer." "A what?" I tilted my head. "You know, a necromancer. Someone who controls the dead. A kind of death wizard. In other words, your master." "Master?" He sighed, as if exasperated by my one-worded questions. "Your master is the person who revived you from the dead. You do know that you're dead, right?" "I know I'm dead! I just don't understand how I'm still moving around still." "Because you've been resurrected!" "How?" "Through the magic of your necromancer." "...What's a necromancer, again?" He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "You really must be stupid. I think you could put on a better act than that," he stood up to leave. "I'm not putting on an act. I moved here almost a month ago from Arizona. I don't know anyone here aside from my Aunt Carolyn. I don't want to be involved in any more madness than I already am, but you do know what's happened to me, and I don't. Therefore, I'm asking you." I said this with all the honesty I could muster and looked straight into his blue eyes. The very same eyes that glared at me with killing-intent last night, though right now, they were a little less intense. I still found them unnerving and disturbing. He simply replied, "Whatever," and walked away. I glared at his retreating figure. He had approached me in the first place! I sat for a while longer after that, catching my breath, and then I decided to run another lap around the park and back to Meadow Street. I didn't think about anything as I ran, and it helped relieve my stress. But then I started thinking again. I sat down on the porch steps where I fell the night before, and stared at the Petersons' house across the street. Nathan acted as if I were part of some evil plan that he was trying to eliminate. He believed that I knew everything about this situation when in fact, I was even more lost than he was. I presumed there were other members of the undead from his crazy-talk, and that idea gave me a strange kind of hope. I wasn't the only zombie. Well, I hadn't assumed that I was the only one; the thought never crossed my mind. But the possibility that others could relate to me had me a little giddy. But I was also weary. So what if there were other zombies? They could be brain-craving monsters like in the movies for all I care. And I could be the only person like this. I rose up from the steps and headed inside. I really needed a life. All I did these days was read, shower, and sleep. School was great, but I soon found it tiring as it was before death. I debated on joining a sport or club outside of school that would keep me busy. Or taking on a minimum-wage job and earning some money. All options seemed appealing. I took a cold shower, which felt nice and numbed my muscles more than they already were. After combing back my damp hair, I sat in front of my vanity. Nothing had changed since I died. I still had dark hair and an oval-shaped face, and a sturdy frame for a fourteen-year-old girl. Now that I was fifteen, I looked smaller in comparison with others, but could still pass for a little older. Seventeen at most. I had "a bud of a nose" as my mother used to, and lips that I wished were a little bit fuller. My skin was a little paler, but I could blame that on the cold, especially since winter was crawling in. Perhaps my eyes were the biggest change, though it was still miniscule feature. They were angular, slanting towards my nose like a cat's. They looked brown at first glance, but upon closer inspection you could see they had no definite color. I squinted in the mirror. The shade was more of a grey hue, but had a glazed over look. I found it creepy and shuddered away. I dressed in a pair dark jeans and a blue and black striped, long-sleeved tee and shrugged on a jacket. I even added a red scarf to accessorize, something I usually don't do. I slipped off my boots and headed outside to bike to the music store at Main and Linton. I know I wasn't allowed to go anywhere on my own, and that Aunt Carolyn would be angry with me when she found out. She probably had secret agents tailing me. But she would calm down after a while when she saw that I had returned home safely. Besides, the store was only a few blocks away. It took me fifteen minutes to get there, which wasn't so bad because it was a nice day out, and there were a lot more of people in the street. I was in the more populated, busier part of town. I chained my bike up to a post in front, and headed into a small, two-story building. On the outside, it looked cramped and dingy between the bigger shops, but had its own feel. There was a striped awning above the door and above that, a sign the read: The Music Box. On the inside, it was much different. It was more of a café than a music store. There were tables all across the room and a counter in the back. It smelled of cinnamon and apple and all kinds of pastries. If only I could eat. Records lined all along the walls and there was even a stereo and a recording booth in one corner. Some pop music was playing. It seemed rather crowded, and I assumed it was because it was a Friday and school was already dismissed. The place was even more popular than I thought. I headed through another doorway that led to the actual store. There was another counter to the side, and rows and rows of shelves filled with music packed the room. There were cushions and sofas throughout and in between. It was less crowded in here, but not by much. A soft guitar cover could be heard in the background. I browsed through the selection, not really looking for anything. Then I bumped into someone. "Harley!" To say Harley was surprised to see me was an understatement. He jumped back, toppled against a shelf (which fell over in response, spilling all the CD's onto the floor), tumbled over a sofa, and flopped against another shelf where he finally stopped. A few more CD's hit on his head. "Urgh..." I made a face. That had to hurt. Every head in the room turned in our direction. I put on a smile and waved them away. I raised my brow at this and helped him up. "I didn't expect such a reaction. Why so startled?" He ran his hands through his hair and fixed his glasses. "I didn't expect that you'd come..." "Well, why wouldn't I? You did tell me about this place anyway, so I decided to check it out." "Ah..." he nodded, and began straightening the room by lifting up the shelf and placing it in the proper place. I looked at this CD's all around and started collecting them. I would have asked if he was okay or not, but that would be a stupid question because of course he would be. Or he was perfectly fine because he was arranging music back onto the shelf and not showing any sign of what he had just been through. "So you work here?" I asked instead. "Kind of. The place belongs to my cousin and his wife. Another friend owns the café front." He started placing CD's on the shelf in some kind of order. Thankfully, it was one of the smaller shelves that had collapsed, or we would've been here all day placing back albums. "That's cool. So it's like a family business." "Of a sort, yeah," he nodded while checking a disk for any damage. I started sorting CD's on the carpeted floor. Rock, Indie, Pop, Classical... "Is he hiring? Your cousin, I mean..." This would be the perfect place to work. I could listen to music all day and there was a friend to hang out with. I just needed to convince Aunt Carolyn somehow. He looked at me with confusion on his face. "Why here? There are so many better places. I just work here because it's my cousin who needs help. The business is still new and all." "It seems pretty popular," I reasoned. "It's always so busy; an extra hand wouldn't hurt, would it? And you said that the pay is pretty good." "I guess so," he relented. He seemed like he wouldn't like me to work here. "I'll talk to him about it." "Great! It's settled then." It was silent for a little bit, than he asked a question, "Why weren't you in school today?" I froze. I was suddenly reminded of Nathan Peterson. I sighed and said, "I was hiding from a guy who claims to be a death wizard and thinks I'm a zombie and wants me dead." I looked at Harley, waiting for a reaction. He just looked back at me, and then laughed. I smiled. "Seriously, where were you?" "I slept in 'till noon." He laughed even more. We worked like that for the next two hours, talking and sorting disks. Customers stepped over us and CD's, trying to get through the mess. Harley apologized profusely, "Sorry, we have to clean this up. Sorry, we must be in your way. Sorry, I'll get someone to help you right away." At one point his cousin, whose name I learned was Lucas, came into the room and saw the mess we made. He scolded Harley much like Mr. Rawson had rebuked me, but in a friendlier way, if that was possible. He was fairly nice to me, and agreed to give me the job I wanted. In the end, the area looked as it had before the shelf was knocked over. We high-fived at that went back out to the café front. The other shop owner saw us and introduced himself as Charlie Lindale. He offered me a free Raspberry Danish from him. I was mentally crying when I refused. But we were going to be great friends, I could already tell. Harley and I hung outside. He ate his muffin quietly. I observed him. Harley looked impeccably nerdy at first glance, but when you got a good look at him, he was actually a cute guy under all the impeccable nerdiness. "Harley, do you know that you're kind of attractive?" He choked on his muffin at that. I laughed, even though I knew it was going to happen. I tipped toed up to match his height and moved aside his hair that he always brushed over his eyes. I took off his glasses. I tilted my head. "You're not kind of attractive, you're very attractive." His face went even redder. I wasn't lying though. He had dark hair and dark eyes, and a strong jawline that many girls liked. I looked at his glasses. "Why do you wear fake glasses?" "I feel exposed when my face isn't covered." "Like when you do with your hair?" "Yeah." "I don't think you should cover your face though. It'd be a waste of a perfectly good one." I tried on the glasses and looked back at him. He still looked good. I looked at him up and down. He had a nice, simple sense of style. He wore plain shirt, sweater, hoodie, and jeans. The layered look that everyone was beginning to wear. I may not have been a fashion-craze like Shannon or Kylie, but I was still a girl who knew style. He was tall and a little on the skinny side, but that was okay. Maybe it was just his hair and glasses that ruined everything. I made a decision then. "We're giving you a haircut tomorrow." I took off the glasses and returned them. "What?" "You heard me." We leaned against the window ledge and talked for a while after that. The sun was going down, and I had to go now if I wanted to be back before Aunt Carolyn. "Thanks for today, Harley. It was fun," I said to him as I unlocked my bike. He laughed. "You had fun organizing over a three hundred albums for two hours?" he asked. "Yes actually, I did," I laughed along with him. "You're a weird girl, you know that?" "Now I know. But you're the weird one for spending time with me." "I guess I am." "I'll see you tomorrow." "Yeah. Bye, Harley." "Bye, Lynn." I started pedaling down the street. "Lynn! You start working Thursday!" I heard him yell. I gave him two thumbs up before I turned a corner. I got home, and Aunt Carolyn was there. She reprimanded for going out without her permission, and at least not telling her where I went. Then she calmed down and became all nice warm-hearted and went back to eating her dinner. I headed upstairs.
Sorry guys! I was really busy today and didnt get to write So this one is short ( I mean shorter than my other chapters ) but hope u enjoy P.S. Not a chapter lol -TF September 16th, 2011 Dear Xavier (Because I think I should begin writing in letter format and because I think Xavier is a cool name), Today was full of events, which all started from last night. We had dinner at the Peterson's (Aunt Carolyn did, anyway). I didn't have to feign ill because I already did. I fainted right there in their living room. Who knew zombies could faint? After that I went home. Nathan walked me (he's their son). He knows I'm a zombie. And I know that he's a necromancer (a wizard of death or something or the sort). He thinks I'm some minion to some other necromancer. I don't know why or how. And he also wants me dead. When I went to sleep last night, I had terrible dreams because of him. It was so bad that I didn't sleep until morning. I missed school, which Aunt Carolyn didn't have a problem with since she let me sleep in. She was probably worried that I was still sick from last night. I went for a run after I woke up. It helped me get my mind off all my worries. But then I met Nathan in the park. He was skipping classes too. I tried to get some answers about this whole predicament, but it seems he's not willing to give me any. I guess I have to try harder, though he still scares me, more so than Mr. Rawson. On a happier note, I hung out with Harley today at The Music Box. I helped him straighten out a mess we made, and his cousin hired me. I think it's a pretty cool place to work, and I'm excited about my first job. I start Thursday. I've also set my mind on helping Harley out of his nerdiness. By help, I mean forcing him whether he likes it or not. He's actually a pretty good-looking guy. I just need to fix his hair, his hunch (he always slouches), and a few tweaks to his nerdy personality. I want him to be likable. Well, he is likable but only to a few people, such as myself. That's why I'm trying to help him. He also seems to like Shannon, because he becomes even shyer around her than anybody else. I'll give him a boost with that too. We start tomorrow. I'm looking forward to it. Good night, my newly named journal (Xavier) Lynn