Luke's Diary: An Unlucky Man in a Zombie Apocalypse. Days 201-400

Day 344: Saturday 5th August 2017 20:38

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Day 344
Saturday 5th August 2017 20:38

A frustrating day.

I still don't know anything about the mystery girl in the bedroom. She hasn't come out of there since she got here yesterday. She must be starving. I've left her a bit of food outside the door but she hasn't touched it. Every time I go to open the door she says she'll stab me if I step one foot inside. Mike and Troy have said we should chuck her out but I just think that's cruel. She must sixteen years old at the most. There's no way I'm going to chuck her out and I've told Mike and Troy that they should be ashamed of themselves for suggesting it.

Troy gave me a makeover today. Yes, it was as bad as it sounds. He sat me down on one of the armchairs in the living room and presented me with a load of beauty products. "For God's sake, Troy," I said, "We're living in an apocalypse we shouldn't have this many skin care products." "WE don't," said Troy, "I do." "Look I don't know if I want a makeover" I said. "It's not about what you want," said Troy, "It's about what you NEED and you REALLY REALLY need a makeover. You need a makeover like a fish needs water. I mean you can't really be happy walking around here with saggy skin like an old bulldog. You look like a drag queen when she's taken all of her make up off." "Thank you," I bluntly said. "Oh just let him give you a bl**dy makeover," said Auntie Meryl, "He can't make you look any worse than you do already." "That's right," said Troy, "You can't polish a turd but you can roll it in glitter, stick some flowers in it and spray it with Febreeze. You can't make a piece of poo look pooier. You can only make it better." "Will you stop having a go at me," I snapped. "We're not having a go," said Troy, "We're trying to help you." "By slagging me off?" I said. "Look," said Troy, "You just sit back and let me work my magic. I'll transform you from Johnny Vegas to Johnny Depp before you can say Pirates of the Caribbean."

About two hours later my make over was complete. Troy stood me up in front of the mirror and I gave a high pitched shriek. I had bleached blonde hair, eye liner and foundation on and body glitter on my cheeks. "What the f*ck have you done to me!?" I wailed. "What do you mean?" said Troy, "I've improved you. Apart from covering you in vomit I don't know what I could have done to make you look worse. You like fabulous." "Fabulous!?" I loudly exclaimed, "Are you kidding!? I look like the gay one out of a nineties boy band. Troy you've bleached my hair. I want you to get rid of this NOW!" "I can't," said Troy, "Its permanent and we've no more hair dye." "Has he given you a sex change too?" asked Auntie Meryl, "I can't tell if you're a boy or a girl anymore." "Neither can I," I said. I looked over at Mike who appeared concerned and uncomfortable. "Well your face says it all," I said. "You look like an Amsterdam rent boy," said Mike. "Right," I snapped. I aggressively stood up, grabbed a towel and started rubbing all the cr*p off my face. I pointed at my hair and looked at Troy with an expression of frustration. "How long will it take for all this sh*t to go?" I snapped. "Well you'll have to grow it out," said Troy. "I look like a right tw*t," I said. "Well I think you look brilliant," said Troy, "And frankly I think you should be a bit more grateful." "Grateful!?" I loudly snapped, "I look like the only gay in the village from Little Britain." "Well you're certainly as fat as him," said Troy, "Do you know I can't believe how selfish and ungrateful you are. I've just spent all day giving you the makeover of your life." "First of all," I said, "You've spent two hours giving me a makeover, not all day, and second of all this is not the makeover of my life. THIS is something you do for a bet. I should have been sponsored to look like this. The only way I would go out looking like this would be for Halloween." I stormed off and avoided Troy for the rest of the day. Thankfully all the cr*p he plastered on my face has gone but my bleached hair will take weeks to grow out. I should have known better than to trust Troy when it comes to giving me a makeover.

Tomorrow I'm going to try and speak to the girl in the bedroom again. She can't stay in there forever. I also think we should go out and search for Naomi and the others. The way I'm feeling right now I think I'd be happy to leave Troy here. Stupid f*cking idiot.