Confessions of a Teenage Zombie
Building Forts
I got to Ryan's doorway, seeing that the door was closed. I could hear him sobbing. I sighed, feeling kind of bad. I was the one who asked him to go outside; that's when he cried. Why, I had no idea, but I could've avoided it.
But then, how was I supposed to know he was going to start crying? Yeah, it was definitely not me, for sure. He probably realized at the last second that scaring Blake and that Spencer guy would be mean, or something stupid like that.
I dug my hands into my pant pocket, feeling my phone. I realized that Brent never gave me his number. He'll probably just call me at some point, and the number will get stored in my caller ID.
Although what if he doesn't call me, and this was all a ruse? Nah, wouldn't be. Brent enjoyed pulling pranks, but he would never spend too much money on one. Besides, he truly seemed happy to see me.
I went into my room, closing the door behind me. I sighed and looked at the dresser, where my wallet was. That was probably the only thing that survived in the fire. Art gave it to me my first morning here, and I still kind of wonder how he got a hold of it.
I grabbed the wallet and opened it, finding several small pictures I had kept in there, along with twenty dollars. With the twelve I already had in my pocket, I had a grand total of thirty two dollars!
I grabbed one of the pictures; it was of Brent, Jon and I. Jon took the picture, so his outstretched arm was slightly visible. He always insisted on taking the pictures; he worried that if you asked someone you didn't know, they'd run off with the camera.
I missed being alive and having my friends. I didn't have to worry about people knowing who I was, and I definitely didn't have to lie to anyone ever. Okay, maybe when it was someone's birthday and I couldn't tell them what I had gotten them, but that's it!
I guess I never realized how much I'd miss my life until now. I always kind of thought I was doing nothing with my life. Now I'm still doing nothing, and I technically have no life.
I wanted to throw things around and scream, but that wouldn't actually make me feel any better. That, and I'd then have to clean it all up anyway. Instead, I left my room and went to one of the hallway closets. I opened it, grabbing several huge blankets.
I went downstairs and made my way to the living room. Shane seemed to have gone somewhere, so I started making myself a fort. My brothers taught me how to make the best forts ever when I was little, and it was something I'd probably keep with me forever.
Several blankets and chairs later, and the living room was taken over by my little kingdom. I smiled as I crawled into my fort with several bags of food. When I used to get really sad about things, I'd make forts and eat tons of food that made me fat. Then, days later, I'd see the scale go up a pound or two, and I'd get even sadder. It was a never-ending cycle, and I never stopped it.
Although now, I could eat anything and not gain weight.
A couple hours later, Art crawled into the fort. He looked at all the empty bags of potato chips before looking at me.
"Camping down here for the night, I take it?" he asked. The difference between making a fort when I lived, and making one now is that my mom would make me take down all the blankets and force me to explain why I was messing up her living room. Art just wanted to know how long it was staying.
"Yeah," I mumbled, handing him a half full bag of chips. He shook his head, and I put the bag down in front of me.
"Wanna talk about it?" Art crossed his legs. I shook my head and looked at the floor, sighing. I guess I knew how Ryan felt everyday. Somehow, that seemed so wrong. "Okay. So I guess it's only Shane and I at the table."
"Sorry," I murmured. Art pulled me into a hug and rubbed my back.
"If building an elaborate fort and hiding out in it will cheer you up, then stay for as long as you need. You'll talk to me if you feel like it." He let go of me and smiled. He crawled out of the fort.
I sighed and grabbed one of the three blankets I had taken with me for inside the fort. I wrapped it around me and laid down, closing my eyes.
It probably should've hit me way earlier, but something about being dead was just upsetting.
But then, how was I supposed to know he was going to start crying? Yeah, it was definitely not me, for sure. He probably realized at the last second that scaring Blake and that Spencer guy would be mean, or something stupid like that.
I dug my hands into my pant pocket, feeling my phone. I realized that Brent never gave me his number. He'll probably just call me at some point, and the number will get stored in my caller ID.
Although what if he doesn't call me, and this was all a ruse? Nah, wouldn't be. Brent enjoyed pulling pranks, but he would never spend too much money on one. Besides, he truly seemed happy to see me.
I went into my room, closing the door behind me. I sighed and looked at the dresser, where my wallet was. That was probably the only thing that survived in the fire. Art gave it to me my first morning here, and I still kind of wonder how he got a hold of it.
I grabbed the wallet and opened it, finding several small pictures I had kept in there, along with twenty dollars. With the twelve I already had in my pocket, I had a grand total of thirty two dollars!
I grabbed one of the pictures; it was of Brent, Jon and I. Jon took the picture, so his outstretched arm was slightly visible. He always insisted on taking the pictures; he worried that if you asked someone you didn't know, they'd run off with the camera.
I missed being alive and having my friends. I didn't have to worry about people knowing who I was, and I definitely didn't have to lie to anyone ever. Okay, maybe when it was someone's birthday and I couldn't tell them what I had gotten them, but that's it!
I guess I never realized how much I'd miss my life until now. I always kind of thought I was doing nothing with my life. Now I'm still doing nothing, and I technically have no life.
I wanted to throw things around and scream, but that wouldn't actually make me feel any better. That, and I'd then have to clean it all up anyway. Instead, I left my room and went to one of the hallway closets. I opened it, grabbing several huge blankets.
I went downstairs and made my way to the living room. Shane seemed to have gone somewhere, so I started making myself a fort. My brothers taught me how to make the best forts ever when I was little, and it was something I'd probably keep with me forever.
Several blankets and chairs later, and the living room was taken over by my little kingdom. I smiled as I crawled into my fort with several bags of food. When I used to get really sad about things, I'd make forts and eat tons of food that made me fat. Then, days later, I'd see the scale go up a pound or two, and I'd get even sadder. It was a never-ending cycle, and I never stopped it.
Although now, I could eat anything and not gain weight.
A couple hours later, Art crawled into the fort. He looked at all the empty bags of potato chips before looking at me.
"Camping down here for the night, I take it?" he asked. The difference between making a fort when I lived, and making one now is that my mom would make me take down all the blankets and force me to explain why I was messing up her living room. Art just wanted to know how long it was staying.
"Yeah," I mumbled, handing him a half full bag of chips. He shook his head, and I put the bag down in front of me.
"Wanna talk about it?" Art crossed his legs. I shook my head and looked at the floor, sighing. I guess I knew how Ryan felt everyday. Somehow, that seemed so wrong. "Okay. So I guess it's only Shane and I at the table."
"Sorry," I murmured. Art pulled me into a hug and rubbed my back.
"If building an elaborate fort and hiding out in it will cheer you up, then stay for as long as you need. You'll talk to me if you feel like it." He let go of me and smiled. He crawled out of the fort.
I sighed and grabbed one of the three blankets I had taken with me for inside the fort. I wrapped it around me and laid down, closing my eyes.
It probably should've hit me way earlier, but something about being dead was just upsetting.