So this is it, I’m signing off after this entry. Life has just got too busy, and I don’t think I really need to write everything down anymore. I’ve accepted and embraced my fate as a zombie. It’s actually better than my life pre-zombie apocalypse. We outnumber the living two to one now, we still have to watch our backs, but the majority avoid us at all costs, which is nice—until I get hungry, that is.
But before I go, I want to tell you how my grand idea went. I spread the word to all to meet at the high school that evening and to stop by the costume shop on the way. Someone had decorated the hall for a party, so a party it shall have!
While Judy sorted Meg’s hair and makeup, I went in search of the perfect outfit for both me and Meg. The costume shop at the mall had tonnes to choose from and as you can imagine had remained mostly untouched. Obviously not an apocalypse essential item.
As I searched the racks, more and more zombies walked through the front doors, keen to join in on the action. Then I saw it—the one.
Perfect!
But to my frustration, just as I reached for it, so did another hand.
“Hey, this is mine,” I said.
“Pretty sure I got it first.” Wait a minute, I recognised that voice.
I looked from the thumbless hand, up the bloodied arm, right into their scratched up face—sheesh, what had he been up to?
“Mr Flynn? You look like shit!”
“Gee, thanks Toby, nice to see you too.”
It was Mr Flynn, my guidance counsellor. I always thought he was pretty awesome for a teacher, and he was one of the few people on this planet who got me. He was even a fellow fortnight player, and we used to chat about gaming all the time. The costume forgotten, we stood there catching up on the last few crazy weeks.
“So I heard through the grapevine you’ve had quite the adventure lately?” he said.
“Have I what! And you want to know the best part?” I asked.
“What?”
“I have a girlfriend and she’s awesome and beautiful and smart and funny. This party is actually for her. She was homeschooled and has never been to a school dance.” I beamed with pride!"
“I’m happy for you, Toby. You’re a good kid. Here you have the costume, you deserve it.”
“Aww, thanks Mr—”
Shit, it was gone. Some punk must have grabbed it while we were talking.
“Don’t sweat it, Tobmiester, I saw an even better one over there,” he said, pointing to the beast in the corner.
Perfect-er!
“Thanks, man. So what have you been up to?” I asked as I stealthily made my way to the beast and its matching getup, with Mr Flynn in tow.
“Oh, this and that. It can really be hard work chasing your dinner down the street.”
“You’re preaching to the choir here, Sir,” I said.
“You want to know what’s funny though? I’m no Arnold so I tend to lie in wait for a more petite victim, then they always turn around and kick my arse. That’s why I look like shit.”
Poor Mr Flynn, sounds like he could benefit from joining our cult commune.
“I may have a solution to that problem.” A sly smile twitching at the corners of my mouth.
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Diary of a Teenage Zombie || ONC 2021
Humor(Round 3/longlist Ambassador Pick) Open Novella contest 2021 For seventeen-year-old Toby, it's hard enough being a teenager. But then the world went and ended, and he got turned into a member of the undead community. Now his life consists of chasing...
