Zombie

August 4, 2011
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I’ve known him for two years, since we started the same year at the same college and were scheduled into seven of the same classes. His condition grows worse and worse every day. He doesn’t feel anything. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t care about anything. And so, he lives in the shadows of this great establishment. This amazing place full of rich, stuck-up bastards who take to underground fighting matches for the sole purpose of beating the s*** out of someone, anyone. This fine school full of regular, middle-class kids who act like everyone else in the daylight but become shut-ins starting dusk, cutting themselves to pass time and to deal with their regular, middle-class problems. This beautiful foundation full of lower-class assholes, who’ll bully anybody, ruin lives, demolish morals… for a price. All of this being, of course, the effect of drugs that are easily obtained throughout campus. He was in none of these. For the first week of class, our freshman year, he was quite talkative. Outgoing. Nice. And, of course, he was beaten up for it. After that, I haven’t heard him say a word. My concern has grown as his condition worsened. Every day spent silent is another day not spent at all. He lives only because he has to, for, given the choice, I am sure he would prefer death. Today, I decided to start a conversation with him, squeeze a word out of him. After two years of knowing him, you get intrigued. After two years of liking him, you get concerned. After two years of being in love with him, you can’t stop worrying. So I finally decide to go up to him when he’s walking to a class, and so I do. I ask him, “Would you like to go to the movies with me Friday night?” He paused for a moment. Then he kept walking.

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This girl walked up to me today and asked me a question. It got my mind racing, debating whether to answer to this woman who’s part of this school. This f***ing hellhole full of rich b****es who won’t stop talking about expensive s***. This asshole of a place where average people wreck s*** in the lives of other average people just to have something do during the weekend. This piece of s*** town where even the waste of society tries to make something of themselves by making nothing of other people. She was just one of them. Plus, if I opened my mouth again I would get killed again. Just like that first week. Why would I answer to this girl who I’ve never seen before in my life? She looked like one of those junkie shitheads that get around quite a bit. I felt no spark between us, no common objective, no shared purpose. “Would you like to go to movies with me Friday night?” F***ing junkie. I wasn’t gonna justify one of them with an answer. So I kept walking.





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