The First Day of the rest of your life

November 29, 2008
By Giles Lemmens, Stockbridge, GA

“Good morning!” chimed the clock-radio that sat on a cluttered nightstand next to my bed. The first rays of sunlight penetrated the room, making my eyes squint to make out the objects around me. A book, flashlight, iPod and a bat lay in the bed with me, occupying the space where a significant other should be. As I rose from the bed, I approached the window to examine the landscape. The roads were still littered with trash and debris, somewhat mirroring a town after a bad storm. While the town had undergone a storm, it was not one you might picture in your head. It had happened a few weeks ago, leaving the people in the town confused and angry at the forces that started this disaster. I moved away from the window and went into the bathroom where I quickly shaved and combed my hair and dressed in a pair of jeans, a black T-shirt and a pair of checkered VANS. I opened the door, walked down two flights of stairs and exited my apartment building. I was immediately greeted with two of “them”, groaning and waving their arms in a demented fashion. As one of them got close enough to attack, I pulled out my pistol and put two bullets in his chest. With the sound of the gunshots, the other rushed away, hoping to escape the same fate that his “friend” had encountered. I quickly fled to my car and sped down the road after him, not wanting him to alert the others to my location. As I got closer, I could hear the frantic “Screams” that he made as he ran faster trying to escape my pistol. I rolled down the window and placed a bullet into the back of his leg. I quickly shifted my lane position so that I would finish him off with my car’s tires. Just as I was about to hear a spattering of brains and guts on the pavement, my car leaped magically over the body, leaving him cowering, still thinking that his death was yet to come. My car skidded to a stop about twenty feet from him. Standing ominously behind him was a quite big one, obviously the cause of my car not killing him. This one was different to the others. He was much bigger and looked stronger than the others that I had killed. “But nothing my friend can’t handle.” I said to myself as I reached for my shotgun that lay untouched in the back seat. I flung open the door and aimed my shotgun towards the big brute. I pumped two shots into his chest and reloaded. I repeated the action twice before I let my gun fall to the ground. After taking six shots to the chest, he still stood. All I could do was stand in shock as he rushed towards me, grabbed me and started to make eating noises. Before I knew it, I was lying in the middle of the street, yelling and screaming in agony waiting for the pain to stop. I crawled to a nearby puddle and saw my reflection. At first I thought I was dreaming, but afterward I realized that this was I. I now resembled one of them, a living breathing… zombie.

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