Dead Life: The Cure To My Madness

Wasn't Uncle Zayne In A Casket Two Minutes Ago?

My friends and I used to joke about it. We'd buy t-shirts with them, or go big like Arty and collect weapons. But it was all just a joke to us. They were just a fun topic of conversation. They weren't real, after all....

Until they were. Now it's not a fun topic of conversation, and most of us are gone. Arty to hunger, Tanner to thirst, and Matías to them. Who am I talking about? The zombies, of course. I'm one of the only ones left, as far as I know. Now I'll do whatever I can to keep it that way.

4 Years Before

My name is Itari Conners. I just turned 17. As a late present from my uncle, I get to attend his open casket funeral with my family and a couple of friends who knew him. Fun. Tío Zayne was actually a pretty cool guy, I guess. He taught me how to fight, and how to live off the land, since he also joked around with me and the gang. Everyone was really surprised when his wife, our Tía Maybelle, called to tell us that he had had a heart attack. Seriously, after everything he'd gone through in his life, growing up on a farm, fighting a wolf off with no weapons to defend a sheep, going to war back when he still worked in the Army, and he died of a heart attack? Really? If I believed in God I'd go bust up a church for my tío right about now.

Whatever, it's fine. I'll just focus on this funeral, which for whatever odd reason is christian even though he too was an atheist. Ugh. "Ari. Itari, are you listening to me?" I snapped out of my daze and looked to the side, at my mother. No one could say she's anything but beautiful, with the sky blue eyes and wavy brown hair I wish I had. Instead I got my father's green-blue eyes and dirty blonde hair that is almost impossible to tame, which is why I cut it into a pixie. "Sorry, mamá. I was just thinking about tío. What did you say?" She shook her head with a faint smile. I zoned out a lot, so she's used to it. "I asked if you want to go see your tío one last time so I know if I have to take Matías or if you can," mamá said.

Matías is my best friend and little brother. He did get our mamá's wavy brown hair and blue eyes, which proves just how unfair life really is. There is some justice around here though, since he has papá's square jaw. "Sure, I'll take him. It's fine, mamá." Really I didn't want to, but I knew mamá didn't want to see someone who wasn't alive. It makes her sad. "Hey, Mattie, c'mon. I'll take you to say adiós to Tío Zayne. He smiled that smile that has gotten me into trouble for him, the one that could melt a criminal's heart. "Okay! Gracias hermana," he said. I smiled back and walked forward to our dead tío to say bye. Tío Zayne was in a black suit with a white undershirt and a black tie, and his eyes were closed. His face was set in a blank expression, his graying fade flat instead of its normal cowlick. I looked away sadly. This isn't what he wanted. He told me to have him cremated, not buried, and to spread his ashes in the woods, where we used to go camping every other weekend.

"I'm sorry for breaking our promise, Tío." It was barely a whisper, so quiet I could hardly hear even though I said it. A tear slipped down my coffee colored cheek and fell off my chin. Matías looked up at me. "I think he wouldn't mind. Tío Zayne was never good at holding a grudge anyways, remember? He's probably watching over you as a spirit already so he can keep you safe."

How does he do that? Matías always knows what to say to me. I swear, it's like he reads my mind. For a 10 year old, he's pretty wise. "Yeah. Yeah, you're probably right. Thanks Matías." He smiled at me and looked back down at our tío. "What's on his hand?" He suddenly asked. "Huh? Where?" Matías pointed. "There, poking out of his sleeve. It looks like teeth marks. Why's it bright red?" I looked at where he said and tilted my head. "It's probably nothing. He did have animals, maybe one bit his hand and it got infected. Let's go back to mamá and papá," I said, starting to leave. He nodded.