lesbian warm bodies or something

wow how creative a lesbian retelling- silence

author prenote: ok so this isnt a full blown RETELL-RETELL verbatim of the movie. i changed a few things...:333 and obviously now they're lesbians. and yes there will be vinyl but just you wait greedy goober OK ill give the people what they want now. yes this is still from R's perspective
p.s being the yar har har yes captain pirate that i am there will be little sprinkles of lines from the book in here 🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

♡ part 1: i'm probably too harsh on myself. ♡

i think i'm too slouched over. i look too tired. i need more sleep. why am i so pale? i should go on vacation. maybe get a haircut or a manicure or something. i should try to connect and socialize more? why can't i do this like any other person?

oh right. it's cause i'm dead.

i'm probably a little too harsh on myself. i'm not the only girl- only dead girl- here. there's all these other people here. and they don't seem all that insecure. honestly, when you spend all day wandering around aimlessly, occasionally groaning and growling, there's not all that much to be insecure about.

it's also a bit hard to be insecure about much when you don't remember much. i can't remember my age, my parents, my job- my hoodie suggests i was unemployed, though- or my name. i can only remember it probably started with an 'r'. not like anybody has to call me a name, anyway. even my best friend. a 'bestie', you might say. her "name" is 'm'. maybe like, michelle, or something.

michelle is a pretty name.

speaking of occupation, even though i was probably an unemployed loser or something, i do like to look at other dead dudes and dudettes and theorize about what they could have been. a janitor. a fitness instructor. a hairstylist. i can tell because her hair is surprisingly still somewhat fancily done despite the state of...other things. you go, girl, i guess.

the thing is, i can only ever guess. i try to joke with them. you were a waitress. recognize it?
they never do.
it's kind of sad- not knowing anybody's names or anything. cause i would love to know them and love them, but i don't even know who they are.

♡♡

i should probably elaborate. this place i talk about is an abandoned airport- its not like we need a lot to meet up to our standards, anyway. it's better than a bunch of us hovering in a field or something, staring blankly into the distance and waiting for an unfortunate guy named jake or something passing by to jump on. i like to wander around- mindlessly, just like everyone else- but it's...fun, in a sense. looking at all the stores, imagining what they could have been before the world went to hell.

i also find entertainment in the escalators. it's weirdly overjoying that the things still work, and i like to ride them up and down as a sort of daily ritual of mine. if my brain still produces dopamine, i get dopamine from the silly little escalators. it takes my mind off of things. things like 'damn, i'm hungry'. which is a usual thought for a living person, but obviously not for me.

i don't really like being hungry. it's a reminder of how dead i am. being hungry makes me feel extra dead. and the worst bit of that, too, is that i can see it in my head. the beautiful, scarlet red- pulsating and exploding with life. it's mental torture.

i may also mention that there are dudes with worse impulses and urges than me real quickly. they're called 'boneys". they're like, literally just bones. they're what we all become at some point, when we lose all hope for anything and just become mindless beasts. they'll eat anything with a pulse.

i mean, i will too, but at least i'm conflicted about it.

another difficult bit- as i mentioned, is that i do obviously have to satisfy that craving, but i don't really like doing it. sure, yeah, it tastes good and helps me feel alive and all, but i hate it. i hate hearing the helpless screams, i hate pain. i hate causing pain. and if i could tell anybody anything, it would be "i don't want to hurt you, but this is the world now".