The Typical Life of a 10th Grade Zombie Killer

"I can do this. I have to. do I? Yes. I. Do. Believe in yourself Destiny. You can do this." I whispered.

SSPLATT!!!

The head of my English teacher hit the ground and rolled away.

"CRAP! That was my favorite teacher!" I exclaimed.

I un-lodged the weapon out of my teachers neck and held it tight. I had picked up an axe from the janitors closet when I saw one of them. Why my school had an axe in the janitors closet, I have no idea.

Now, you may think I'm crazy for be-heading my 10th grade English teacher. I'm not a psychopath. He wasn't ALIVE. Well? He would be classified as a zom-head, the walking dead, zoms. I keep it simple. I call them zombies.

When I finished killing my teacher, I looked around the room. There was scattered desks everywhere, along with books, paper, pencils, and every other school supply known to man. Oh, and there was also some unfriendly students.

One of our school cheerleaders was limping around the classroom, her leg twisted in an un-natural position. She looked like she had mold on her skin, and her eyes were glazed over with a milky color.

'If she were alive right now, she would so freak that her eyes don't match her outfit' I thought.

Another zombie was trying to get into the supply closet in the back of the room. He had the same features as the cheerleader did, milky eyes and moldy skin.

I knew that I needed to kill them before they killed me, so I charged. I went for the cheerleader first, since she was the closest to me.

I swung my axe hard onto the top of her head. her moldy skin cracked easily, and their was a sickening squishy noise as my axe penetrated her scalp.

One down, one to go.