A Sweating Hungry Mess. Oh, and Zombies too

Oh wow, don’t you just hate it when your fridge is empty and you’re starving and your mom’s at work so you decide to ride your bike over to the gas station but that annoying kid in your class who happens to be your neighbor flattens your tire with some sharp rocks and then you run to the gas station only to be met with a really ticked off zombie and end up running back home with no food?

I know I do. 

There has to be something to eat here. I’ve already raided the fridge over ten times, emptied the mostly empty pantries, searched my room for anything edible, and asked my neighbor if he had any food to spare.

Not the annoying-kid-in-my-class neighbor, the other one. Mr. Muley. The sometimes-grumpy-sometimes-gives-you-candy neighbor. 

If you didn’t guess already he was grumpy today.

If only my mom would just come back. Right now. Preferably with food. 

But nooo, stupid zombie apocalypse cleanup crew. 

You know, I bet in some way, this whole mess is Conner’s fault. That’s the annoying-kid-in-my-class neighbor by the way. Let’s just call him AKIMCN for short. 

Connor with his stupid smirk and stupid jokes and stupid haircut.

His stupidity just angers me, honestly. 

So, it’s only logical that he’s probably responsible for why there are suddenly zombies, climbing out from graves, and trying to eat people’s brains. 

But of course, Connor is safe, his stupidity rendering his brain not desirable for the many zombies that now walk amongst us. 

Lucky for him. 

Unlucky for me, I have quite a large intellect. 

Mostly.

Anyway, I’ll likely die of starvation before the zombies can get me. 

Well, any anyway most of the zombies are pretty nice. Only the bored ones are looking for brains to eat. Like that one at the gas station. It’s only because of my great running speed that I got away. 

Of course, I would’ve gotten away much faster if it weren’t for Connor and his stupid sharp rocks.

Ah, I was so distracted being angry at Connor that I forgot my hunger for a little bit.  

Well, now I remember. 

I’m hungry.

I’m famished.

I’m starving.

I want food, is that too much to ask for?

I’m not asking for much really. 

A granola bar would do just fine. 

Maybe a burger, that would do nicely.

A stack of pancakes as high as I am tall.

And, boy oh boy, I am tall. 

Just a nibble of cheese UNIVERSE CAN’T YOU HEAR ME?

I’ve got the kitchen knife close by, in case a zombie comes too close for comfort, an empty box of cereal that was my snack, and a balled-up blanket in case I get cold. 

In this heat though, that’s unlikely.

Sweat trickles down my forehead mixing with a little bit of blood from a small scratch. 

Yeah, you heard me, blood. 

It’s an apocalypse, can’t expect to stay perfectly safe. Especially when your neighbor decides to throw sharp rocks at you whenever you’re passing by.

Yeah, we’re talking about Connor again. 

I really want to find out where he gets his supply, I mean seriously, why does a fourteen-year-old boy have an unlimited amount of sharp rocks in his house?

Ugh, it’s so hot. 

Oh great, now I’m thirsty too. 

Hunger and thirst at the same time is not a great combination, let me tell you. 

What if my mom gets turned into a zombie?

I mean, I’m worried for obvious reasons, but that would mean she can’t get me food.

Which is something I need, as soon as possible. 

Sooner, too.

I swallow the spit that has gathered in my mouth and instantly regret it.

It’s only made me more thirsty.

What I would give for a nice icy cold can of coke...

Pair that with some beef...

Ohhh, I’m drooling just thinking about it.

If my phone wasn’t so extremely cracked and dead and honestly in need of a funeral, I’d call my mom and tell her to bring home some coke and beef for dinner. 

But it is. So I can’t.

Hm, I may as well have a funeral for my phone. I don’t want to move though. I don’t need to use any more energy than necessary in my starving body. It’s practically killing me to blink.

I’m only slightly exaggerating, truly.

Ugh. Double ugh. Triple ugh. I could go on and on.

I mean you’d think, whoop de doo, it’s an apocalypse, no school, and whatnot. 

But when you’re so utterly starving and would settle for even cafeteria food, then you know it’s terrible.  Because if Connor didn’t exist (yes, I still think it’s him even though I have no real proof) and somehow cause the zombies to exit the world of the dead and enter that of the living then said zombies wouldn’t have made such a mess and my mom wouldn’t have to be part of the cleanup crew and not here or buying me food or here after buying me food. 

So you can see why it’s such a bad thing. 

I click my sandpaper dry tongue against the roof of my mouth.

Not only am I hungry and thirsty, but I’m bored too. 

It’s times like these when I wish I had a sibling.

Oh, they’d have to be obedient though.  

No, I don’t think I could handle the annoying aspects of a sibling.

It’s enough dealing with Connor and I don’t have to live with him either, just next door to him. 

So I’m hungry, thirsty, hot, bored, tired, and...wet with sweat.

Could this day get much worse?

Well…

I mean…

I suppose a zombie could break in?

Suppose Connor could break in for no other reason than to torment me?

I’m pretty sure if my stomach wasn’t empty right now I’d have thrown up in my mouth.

I wish I had thought to take my charger inside. Instead it’s melted all over itself. 

Not that my phone would even be usable it’s so cracked. 

If it was I’d call Delilah. She always knows how to make things fun and interesting even when you’re stomach’s empty and your throat’s dry and your forehead hurts and ugh.

The worst part about this apocalypse isn’t even the hunger or the thirst or the boredom, the zombies are just so incredibly like normal people, it’s...well it’s a little scary.

You didn’t hear that from me though.

Not every day a teenage girl admits she’s scared of something. 

Especially not this extremely feministic, tall, genius(by my own judgment, of course) teenage girl.

I’m more likely to roll around in mud than admit I’m scared of something.

Oh.

I’ve done that before.

Well, it was a dare, you can’t exactly blame me, I don’t back down from dares. Not disgusting dares, not scary dares, not any dares.

So then I’m more likely to… to get food right this second than admit I’m scared of something, and I just admitted I am.

So don’t tell a soul.

If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to raid the fridge for the… 18th time. 

Only disturb me if you have food, please.

And thank you.