Childhood Stories - A collection of the old stories I wrote as a kid

1 - Munching Zombies

*NOTE* This story is unfortunately incomplete, but it's still got a lot going on... maybe too much.

Chapter 1

"Here we are!" Dad exclaimed as we pulled into the driveway. I gasped. Our new house looked amazing. It was light orange with a curved red roof and flowers in pots all around it. One of the plants was growing up the wall of the house. A long white staircase to the right of the front door looked like it led to the upper floor of the home.

"Cool!" Ryan, my younger brother, exclaimed. He pressed up against the window to get a better look.

I (Caren) am nine. My Mom's name is Carrie and my Dad's called Chase. Ryan is seven. Our family had just moved from our house in Ohio. We had been promised a beautiful summer villa, and it looked like we got it.

"Well, apparently this was a hit," Dad told Mom.

"It was weird," Mom replied. "It was extremely cheap! It was only $10,000!"

"That's a lot of money," Ryan responded.

"Not for a house, it's not," Dad told him.

"Did the movers put the furniture in the house yet?" I asked.

"Yep, it's all ready to go," Dad said. "And we bought some new furniture, too, since the house was so cheap!"

"Wow!" I said. They sure didn't tell us kids that yet! In the yard was a grill. There was also a little red table with two white yard chairs set up next to it. There was also a blue yard chair that was kind of laying down, so you could sleep on it.

"Look, Mom! A porch with flowers on the sides!" Ryan yelled, pointing at the black porch on the second story.

"Okay, I want to go explore now," Mom said.

"Take me!" I said. I jumped out of the car, slipped off my flip-flops, and ran to the front door. Ryan was right behind me.

"I just love the color of the door!" Mom exclaimed, running her hand along the teal door. I looked up. The door going out to the black porch was the same color. So were the shutters on the windows.

We emerged into the kitchen when we walked in. A blue table with four brown chairs greeted us.

"Check it out!!! They have a TOASTER!" Ryan cried. "We can make Pop Tarts!"

I snorted. "We had a toaster at our old house, Ryan," I pointed out.

Ryan crossed his arms over his chest. "Well, it wasn't a purple toaster." He argued. Ryan has been obsessed with purple lately.

We turned the corner, and a white door was in front of us. I opened it, and it was the bathroom. There was one of those old-fashioned tubs in there that had legs to stand up on.

"Can we go upstairs now?" Ryan asked. He's so impatient.

"Sure," I said, turning around. I ran out the front door and into the yard. Dad was unpacking suitcases from the car. I stepped onto the big white staircase...

Right as something flew into our house with a crash. I remember flying into the lawn chair. Then someone screamed.

Chapter 2

"What just happened!?" Dad screamed. Ryan came running out of the house crying. Mom was right on his heels.

"Sorry 'bout that, folks," A man in a deep voice on green skis was sitting on the ground next to the house. His blonde hair was all messed up, and his blue sweater had dirt on it. He looked fine, except one of his ski poles was bent. He hopped back onto his feet, which didn't look very easy since he was on skis and all.