Confessions of a Teenage Zombie

The next morning, I woke up in the corner of my room. I looked around, finding Brent nowhere. I left the room, first looking in Ryan's room. Brent sometimes talked to him, so it was a possibility he was there. No one was in the room.

I furrowed my eyebrows, grumbling to myself before walking to Shane's room. The door was closed, and I could only guess Shane was still asleep. I grumbled to myself and walked into Art's room. He was lying back on his bed, reading a book. Damn early risers. He was already dressed.

“Isn't it really early to already be so ready for the day?” I inquired, moving to stand by the end of the bed. Art looked at me, then at his nightstand. He looked back at me.

“Brendon,” he said, “it's a half hour past ten. It's not that early.”

“Oh,” I muttered. Okay, so maybe I should've checked my clock before I left the room. No matter. It's not like it really made a difference. “Have you seen Brent?”

“He's downstairs,” Art smiled. I nodded my head and muttered a thanks before leaving the room and made my way downstairs.

I walked into the dining room, finding Brent sitting at the table eating donuts. Ryan was sitting by the windows, staring out of them. I walked to be next to where Brent was sitting.

“Brent, do you know why I was on the floor when I woke up?” I inquired. He looked at me, as did Ryan.

“Well,” Brent said, “you got up in the middle of the night and started mumbling incoherently. You walked to the corner, stared at me, made gurgling noises, and then fell asleep promptly in the aforementioned corner. By the way, I took your bed, since I figured you probably weren't going to sleep in it.”

“Wow, you're such a good friend. Prick.” I rolled my eyes and turned to Ryan. “Ryan, please tell me you woke up in a normal manner.”

“I don't sleep,” he murmured. I blinked twice and turned to Brent, who was looking at Ryan. I turned back to Ryan, leaning forward to indicate I wanted him to elaborate. “I just never feel tired, and I don't see the point. It won't do me any good, so why bother?”

“Can you really do much of anything besides talk to us and look at things?” Brent inquired.

“I can think,” Ryan replied. He sighed. “But not really. I don't even know why I'm even a ghost. I can't do anything for anyone. I'm useless.”

Before I could say anything, most likely mean, Brent started talking.

“That's not true. You're good company.” Brent smiled. He was way better with talking to some people than I was, that's for sure. I probably would've told Ryan he was useless. Would it be so mean if it was kind of true?

Ryan sighed and went back to staring out the window.

“I should get going." Brent looked at me. “I have classes, and I don't want to be late.”

I stared at him. I didn't want him to go, but I knew he had to. Just because I was undead and had nothing going on, it didn't mean it was the same for him.

“Bye." I pulled him into a massive hug. I heard a low sigh escape him before he pulled away. He looked at me sympathetically. He leaned into me.

“How about I get you a pre-paid phone?" he inquired. "I'll get one for you, and one for me, that way you don't have to worry about Blake or my family if you want to talk.”

“Really?” If I weren't a zombie, I'd be hyperventilating. The fact that Brent was willing to pay for us to not only talk, but so I wouldn't have to lie so much if I got one of his family members, was just so great. I forgot how good Brent was to me.

“Really. I'll stop by later to drop it off.” Brent hugged me again before turning to leave. He looked over his shoulder at Ryan. “Hey, Ryan, you'll be okay. You're in a house where everyone loves you. Cheer up.”

Ryan looked at him and nodded his head slowly before turning his attention back to the outside world. Brent blinked, smiled at me, and left.

I realized he left his dufflebag here. I guess he could just grab it when he came back later.

Brent returned at four. He looked aggravated when I opened the door to greet him.

“You okay?” I inquired as he made his way past me and into the house. He unzipped his coat, reaching inside and handing me a phone. “Brent, what's eating you?”

“Blake just had to know what plans I had going on after school, so he and his stupid boyfriend tagged along. I didn't realize they had been following me until I got here,” Brent explained. “I said someone dared me to check out the house, since it's rumored to be haunted by ghosts.”

“Well, a ghost does technically live here.” I was the only one who found my joking funny. I sighed. “I can send Ryan out to spook them if it'll make you feel better. He can wail at them or something.”

“Maybe,” Brent mumbled.

“You left your bag here,” I stated, trying to change the subject for him. “I thought about chasing after you a little, but I knew you'd be back, so I didn't bother. I was barely prepared to be outside, anyway.”

“Got it.” Brent moved past me and went up the stairs. I could hear him mumble a greeting, so I could only assume someone was coming downstairs. Ryan appeared a second later.

“People are laughing outside. I can hear them.” Ryan looked a little freaked out, not that that was unnatural, although he had a reason to be this time.

“Brent's little brother and his brother's boyfriend followed him here, and Brent had to convince them he came on a dare. Did you know this place is rumored to be haunted by ghosts?” I smiled. “Hey, wanna go spook them? Brent's down that they followed him.”

“Well... I guess it couldn't hurt. I'm hard to see when the sun is so bright anyway, so I guess Art won't be mad.” There was a slight hint of a smile from Ryan, which was surprising to see. He rushed past me and out the door.

A moment later, he was back in, crying. He raced up the stairs. I could only look up at the ceiling. I decided to go upstairs and try to make Brent feel better; Ryan could be dealt with any time.

Brent wasn't in my room, nor was he in Ryan's. Shane was still asleep, so I didn't even bother checking his room. I walked into Art's room, figuring that if Brent wasn't there, he was either dead or in the bathroom. Honestly, it could've been either.

"Brent?” I called, looking around. Art had gone to the museum, for whatever reason, and wasn’t going to be back for awhile. I looked under the bed, finding nothing. Damn, was I the only messy one in the house? “Brent!?”

I checked the closet, finding some nice suits. If I wasn’t bigger than Art, I’d take some of his clothes.

I closed the closet door and went back into the hallway, upset that Brent seemed to be nowhere. I overheard Ryan crying in his room, so I kindly closed his door. You know, because I figured he’d want that, and not at all because I wanted to lessen the noise.

I went back downstairs and into the living room. I moved the curtains and peered outside, seeing Blake and Spencer, Blake’s boyfriend. He looked taller than me, and good lord did he have the brightest eyes I had ever seen. He turned his head, and I threw the curtains as not to be seen.

“You okay?”

“Crap!” I shrieked, jumping. I turned around, coming face to face with Brent. His duffle bag was slung over his shoulder. “Dude, where were you hiding? I was looking for you!”

“I wanted to see Shane a little more closely,” Brent said. Of course he’d be in the one place I didn’t think about checking. “What were you looking at?”

“Spencer and Blake.” I shrugged my shoulders. “I asked Ryan to go spook them, but he came in crying.”

“I heard. Poor Ryan.” Brent looked down at the floor. He looked at me. “So I guess I should get going now. Wouldn’t want mom and dad freaking that Blake is out so long with an older guy.”

“Do they not like Spencer?” I inquired.

“They think he’s great!” Blake exclaimed. “They just don’t like the idea of Blake dating someone that much older than him. They think he should stick with people his own age… and preferably girls.”

“Oh, so that's how they are about that kind of thing.I chuckled. Brent rolled his eyes, pulling me into a hug before leaving. I cautiously looked behind the curtain. Brent was doing his best to look mortified. Blake's eyes were huge, but Spencer looked like he didn't believe a word of what Brent was saying.

Whatever. As long as he didn't come bugging us, it was all fine with me.