Zombie Girl

Contrary to common opinion, not all zombies are flesh-hungry, thoughtless creatures. There are a few exceptions to this annoying stereotype.

Me.

My name is Ryla and I’m a zombie. And yes, I can talk. Sigh.

Granted, I haven’t been one very long and it annoys me to say I haven’t met other thinking zombies like me. But I’m undead as far as I know. And I do like brains, especially the succulent ones from the few spoiled politicians I’ve seen running around in their underwear. Anyway, I can’t help it! That’s what I need to eat now. I try to avoid eating people who are running for their lives, though. It doesn’t make me feel good inside, um, inside my rotting body. I don’t even know how I still have emotions. Maybe my limbic system or something isn’t destroyed yet. I guess I have some kind of immunity that keeps me from losing my mind completely. Some immunity! I’m still the undead. Harsh.

I used to be beautiful. Why wouldn’t I be, after all the expensive and painful surgeries I’ve gone through? Boob job, nose job, chin shave, remove adam’s apple. Fix the thing down there, check. And then this happened. My beautiful smooth, skin from years of hormones are now rotting. Harsh.

But maybe there’s hope. I’ve overheard the normals hunting me once that there was an experimental cure, supposedly, in one of the labs downtown. Boy, were they surprised I started shooting them with a gun. Even when I gave them a brief explanation of the European debt crisis that was happening before Z-day while avoiding bullets to my head, they still didn’t believe I was not your run-of-the-brain-mill zombie. In the end I had to shoot them down and eat their brains. At least I got meself some supper.

Oh hey, what’s this? Liquid foundation. Awesome! Time to cover up some of the peeled off areas of my face. But first lemme find a quiet place to apply it. The zombies here are harassing me for not being a normal zombie and I don’t want to waste the few bullets I have left. I’m reserving them for the normals who are hazardous to my head, er, health.

All alone. Sigh. So where is that lab?

I know this is a bit late for a zombie story, but I just wanted to get this story out of my head. I may develop this further later on. Let me know what you think. ^___^ Nina W



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This story is 436 words long.