Chapter 1: Day of the Dead

The day that everything came to an end started out like any other Thursday of my life. I woke up to my alarm clock blaring only inches from my face. Annoyed, and wishing that it was Saturday already, I flipped the alarm switch off and, while cursing myself for staying up so late the night before, crawled out of bed. I then jumped into the shower. While getting myself cleaned up, I listened to the Beatles You've Got to Hide Your Love Away; a song I downloaded last night, befitting my situation perfectly. I then got dressed, had myself a bowl of Fruity Pebbles, and then headed out to school for another eight hours of soul draining education. The only difference with that day (other than the horror that nobody saw coming) was that I was still reeling from the depression caused by Ashley's rejection. Any other girl's rejection would've rolled right off my shoulders. But not Ashley's. She was different.

     It was bad too. I mean I've been depressed before, but it was nothing compared to what I was going through at that moment. Colors weren't as vibrant, sounds seemed muffled (as if I was underwater), food tasted bland (my bowl of Fruity Pebbles; a tangy, delicious treat, tasted like cardboard), and it felt like I was living in slow motion. Everything and everyone was zipping right past me as if I was walking to school, completely lost in my mind.

     When I finally got to school, classes were torture, heightened to near insanity thanks to the depression. I found myself on more than one occasion staring out the classroom window. I wasn't daydreaming. I was just staring out the window, completely--well, zombified (I know. Wrong word). What made everything even worse was that Ashley and I shared the same four classes together, and instead of sitting in the back of the class with me like we always did, she was now sitting up front, refusing to acknowledge that I was back here. As if ignoring me was going to make the situation any better. It made me angry just thinking about how some people could be so damn immature as to not deal with situation handed to them. 

     By the end of the third period I had simple had enough. I just couldn't go on any longer. Even if I wanted to speak with Ashley, there was no way she was going to give me that chance. Three times the end-of-period bell rang, and each time she was the first to exit the classroom, her stuff already packed before the bell rang. I even tried to do the same thing in the second period, but ended up kissing tile when one of her girlfriends tripped me up while playing defense.

     It was insane. With one simple, yet extremely difficult expression of emotion, I could literally see our friendship of more than ten years start crumbling away at the base. A friendship that transcended childhood and blew past puberty like it was nothing, start to fade. I was now having a hard time deciding what was worse. The fact that she rejected me, or that our friendship was eroding away.

     Fourth quarter was next. Ashley's boyfriend (I didn't even know his name) would be in the next class, and there was no way in hell I'd be able to deal with watching those two holding hands, or whatever they could get away with when Mr. Dodge's back was turned. Instead, once my stuff was packed, I decided that I was going to go to the one place I always went when I needed to clear my head and get some perspective. The emergency staircase.

     I snaked my way threw the student filled hall, bumping into more students than I ever did before. 

     Have you ever watched an old Peanuts cartoon? Remember whenever they were in class and the teacher spoke? Mwah, mwah, mwah. That's what everyone sounded like when I walked past.

     Once I reached the emergency exit, I pushed through the door and allowed it to close behind me, making sure that nobody of importance, like teachers, was watching me when I exited.

     Outside my view was a plain and simple one. Straight ahead was the front gate to the school. Wrought iron barred. Obsidian black. It was closed, like it always was once the school reached halfway through the first period. Beyond that was the school parking where cars, trucks, and vans in every color were parked. Then there was Eastwood Dr. The single road that connected the school to the main streets, Rouse Road and Lokanotosa Trail. Beyond that were oaks and palm trees loosely clustered together where I could just make out Rouse Lake.

     I pulled my cell phone from my pocket and opened up my photo gallery. I slid my finger across the pictures. The one with me doing a failed back flip into the pool. The one of Ashley's dog, Tigger, shaking my hand. The one with me, Ashley, and our friends Sara, Eddy, Katrina, and Jarrod in a group photo.The one with Ashley and myself, wearing Thing 1 and Thing 2 wigs and ridiculously large sunglasses that covered most of our faces. I stopped on that pic and looked at it, letting the memories come flooding back to me. It was on Christmas break at Universal's Islands of Adventure. The picture was the most special of them all to me. It was taken on the day that I realized that I really cared--loved Ashley.

     I heard the start-of-period bell ring. By now Mr. Dodge would be finished with the roll call and he'd have me marked as absent. I'm sure Ashley would have noticed me missing from class, her trying so hard to avoid me and all. I wondered if she even cared, or if she was too busy being all googly eyed with her new boyfriend.

     I stared above the treeline for a moment, gazing out as far as I could see, and then further, waiting for an answer to anyone of my questions that had been repeating itself over and over again in my head. The big question was Why? 

     Suddenly I heard the emergency exit door pop open, followed by "Why am I not surprised to find you out here?" I slid my cell phone back into my pocket and turned to find that it was Sara, her blonde hair, streaked with pink highlights, pulled back into a tight ponytail and her ice blue eyes filled with annoyance. Sara was the smartest girl in my class, if not all of University High. She was so smart that she skipped over her junior year at the beginning of school.

     "What do you want, Sara?" I asked facing her, exasperation clear in my tone of voice. I continued to lean against the guard rail.

     "Well since you asked," she said stepping forward, letting the emergency door close. "What I want to be is in class right now and not playing gofer for Mr. Dodge."

     "And how would Mr. Dodge know that I'm even in school?"

     "I told him," she said nonchalantly. "He asked if anybody had seen you. Against my better judgement I said I did. And then he asked if I could go fetch you. Fetch," she said with a chuckle. "As if I'm some dog."

     "Well congratulations," I said rolling my eyes and returning my view to the trees and lake. "You found me. Hate to tell you this, but I'm not attending fourth period today. So go tell Mr. Dodge that I'm sick or something and I'm going home."

     "Tell me this doesn't have anything to do with Ashley rejecting you yesterday."

     I felt my heart seize for a split second. I turned and faced Sara, drilling her with a stare. "And how would you know that Ashley rejected me?" 

     Sara's eyes opened slightly for a second. That was her tell that she had just said something that she shouldn't have. A sort of open mouth, insert foot. Despite the fact that she was the smartest girl in the school, she lacked the ability of watching what she said. 

     I approached her and grabbed her by the shoulders. "Tell me!" I demanded.

     Sara looked down at my shoes. "I thought it was common knowledge, seeing as how she posted it on Twitter last night."

     Anger surged inside me. No, not anger. This was flat-out rage. I released Sara and punched the wall beside me, quickly regretting the action as pain shot up from my knuckles and ran up to my shoulder. I looked down at my knuckles and saw that they were bleeding.

     Just as quickly as the rage swelled did it recede, replaced by a new level of depression that crashed over me like a tsunami, flooding my brain. It was so bad that I didn't realize Sara had pulled a handkerchief from her jeans pocket and began wrapping my knuckles up.

     "Brilliant," I said, looking over the safety railing. "So you think a swan dive off the second floor would do me in? Figure if I'm going to commit suicide, I might as well go out with a little bit of flair.

     "Shut-up, D.J.," Sara said stepping back and admiring her handiwork. "You and I both know you don't have it in you to commit suicide.

     I scoughed and returned all of my attention back towards the view. She was right, of course. Not in a million years would I find the necessary fortitude to commit suicide, but I hoped the scough was enough to change her mind about what I was and wasn't capable of doing, given the situation.

     "C'mon, Deej," Sara said walking up and leaning against the guard rail beside me. She looked into my eyes, the annoyance was flipped to what I believed was compassion. "You know I always believed that out of everyone in the school, you somehow had a higher level of maturity to not buy or get sucked into all this high school drama."

     "Sorry to let you down."

     "Oh, you're not letting me down. You're letting yourself down. Besides, do you know what the percentage is of a successful high school relationship? One that makes it through high school. Fifteen percent. That means that one out of every eighty-five relationships will actually make it. That percentage is then cut by more than half when they enter college.

     I lifted my hands up in exhaustion. "Leave it to you to turn something as complicated as love into a numbers game."

     "It's not a game!" she exploded, squaring off with my side. "It's fact. Ashley and Greg will fail. It's practically guaranteed. And when it does happen, guess who comes out smelling like a rose."

     So that was his name. I'd be lying if I didn't say that I felt an odd sense of satisfaction when I heard that he and Ashley were guaranteed to fail. But there was still that chance. Not everything can be deduced with numbers, and that wasn't helping my depression.

     Sara lifted her hands and began to message her temples. She sighed. "Look, I'll just tell Mr. Dodge that you're in the infirmary. Food poisoning from under cooked chicken or ham or something."

     I didn't say anything after that. I just kept staring out at my view. Sara walked away, opening the emergency exit door and left me alone with the thought of Ashley and Greg failing. I could hear her footsteps echoing down the empty hall. I heard the emergency door slam and once again I was alone. I pulled my cell back out and returned to the picture.

     Suddenly the emergency door opened again and a pair of soft, warm arms wrapped around my middle. I could feel a head resting on my back.

     "I'm really sorry that this happened," Sara said. "She's an idiot for not picking someone as great as you. She left without saying another word.

     Sara left me behind, smiling; the first one that day. How could I not smile? Just when I thought I had Sara pegged as a person does she flip a switch and become someone else entirely. I noticed my attitude lifting and becoming better. It felt like weight was being lifted off my shoulder. Maybe a hug was simply what I needed. I was beginning to think that maybe my day was about to get better.

     (And if you're a fan of that bittersweet irony like I am, then you're going to love what happens next. I mean, talk about perfect timing.)

     Suddenly I heard a banging sound coming from the front gate. I looked down, curious to know what it was. It wasn't the gates opening, that was more of a metal on metal scraping sound because of one of the pulley's acting up. At the front gate was a single man in a dark business suit. He stood there for a moment, head down, shoulders slumped. The man walked into the gate as if it wasn't even there. He did it three times before, "Can we help you with something?"

     From the administration office, Coach Jameson, Principle Dean, and the school secretary, Ms. Belle, all approached the man on the school's side of the gate. 

     "Are you all right, sir?" asked Principle Dean. "Can we help you with something?"

     Without a word, the man looked up, his face gaunt and as pale as a ghost. He reached out to them through the bars and walked into the gate once more, the faculty just staying out of his reach.

     "Oh my God!" Ms. Belle proclaimed, pointing at the man's mid-section. "He's bleeding!"

     "Julia, contact 911 immediately," commanded Dean. Ms. Belle ran back into the office. "Brad, help me."

     I watched as Jameson and Dean ran to the left side of the gate where a special door welded into the gate was, Dean pulling out a set of keys as he got there. The man staggered after them, both arms now stretched out. Upon a more focused inspection, I noticed his white shirt on the inside of his jacket was stained with blood.

     It was Dean who got to the man first, grabbing hold of one side while Jameson grabbed the other. Suddenly, and without provocation, the man lunged face first into Dean's neck.

     What happened next happened so quickly it could only be described as horrific. Dean froze in place, his face contorted in a level of pain that I cannot describe. He released a heart stopping, blood curdling scream as blood erupted from where the man bit down. Even Jameson was momentarily shocked, but in a mixed martial arts sort of way, he quickly took a step away from the man and with a powerful swing with his right arm, he back-punched the man square in the temple.

     The man fell to the ground, but not before ripping the flesh right off Dean's neck; blood spraying all over the place.

     Jameson hooked his arms under Dean's and began dragging him back to the door quickly. The man got to his feet as if nothing had happened and went chasing after them. 

     "What's going on?" Ms. Belle asked, running back out to see what was the matter. She released a loud squeal when she saw Dean.

     "Julia!" Jameson shouted as he was dragging Dean through the door. "Close this door now!"

     Ms. Belle did as she was commanded, just closing the gate in time before the man managed to block her.

     "Oh my God, what happened to him?" she asked, dropping to her knees at Dean's side.

     "Never mind that," said Dean, removing his shirt and applying it to the wound. "Get back on that phone. Tell them we need immediate emergency--"

     Suddenly Dean released another howl of pain. His body began to shake violently as if he was having a seizure, foam erupting from his mouth. He reached up into the air and then his arm dropped, everything stopping altogether.

     "Oh my God," said Jameson, fear and shock plastered on his face. "He's dead."

Reviews

[Popble]

The only disappointing part for me was when it ended, this is great stuff!

[N.A.S.S]

Fun because I love stuff about zombies. and the ending was good. and the initial portions are so reminiscent of any school boy's 'love life' or lack of it thereof!
But I would like to say that having seen a lot of zombie movies and one t.v show, and some zombie novels as well, I would like you to do something more to make it interesting. For example, while writing a short story of mine on zombies even I had used the school/college gate as a starting point of terror. While reading I want something new and in this piece I sort of know what you are going to write. Even the portions about being upset about the girl has been done to death. So, a major twist is needed to differentiate it from all the stuff that has come out before it.

[Lexy]

some spelling but otherwise it is very good. CONTINUE!!

[J. Ghalden]

I snaked my way threw the student -- Through**
Outside my view was -- There should be a comma after outside
I really cared--loved Ashley.
I heard the start-of-period bell ring. By now Mr. Dodge would be finished with the roll call and he'd have me marked as absent. I'm sure Ashley would have noticed me missing from class, her trying so hard to avoid me and all. I wondered if she even cared, or if she was too busy being all googly eyed with her new boyfriend.
-- Is there a point to this paragraph being in different size than all the others? Or was it just a mistake?
I scoughed and returned -- Scoffed**
Other than those up there that I pointed out, everything was good and orderly. The only piece of advice I have is that you could definitely shorten the amount of unneeded details. You did a good job of using them, but there's too much and at points it gets blaringly boring. But overalll, it was good :)
To chapter 2!!!

[Hatchling]

Very good