It was a lovely evening here in California. I just got back home from working, I worked at Riffs and Rails. I have a full time job there, I get paid about 40 dollars an hour. it's a nice job everyone has the same intrests as me.
"Thomas, honey I'm home" I yelled to my boyfriend.
"hey babe , how was work today?" he asked me.
"it was awesome, I sold 20 different skate boards today"
"that's great babe" he said.
The next morning
"Thomas! Thomas! where are you babe!" I yelled trying to find my boyfriend.
"Thomas!"
I looked everywhere. But two places...The garage and attic. I looked in the attic there was nothing but dust and empty boxes. I was honestly afraid of the garage. I walked down to the garage and turned on a flashlight that I found by the door. I heard a little grunt...then a groan...
"OH MY GOD!" I screamed.
"THOMAS!" I started to cry.
Right then and there I took a good look at him. He was torn ripped apart. he was a zombie.. No, no it's fake not real. zombies are fake. they can't be real. I know they're not real. Just looking at his mangled body made me sick to my stomach.
