Confessions of a Teenage Zombie

I waited with Shane for Art to wake up. I knew they'd be okay, and would definitely talk through it, but I just wanted to be there. For some reason, there was always a small trace of doubt when I was usually sure. Like, I knew it would be fine, but what if it wouldn't be for some unforeseen reason?

I turned to Shane. He was unwrapping all the blankets he had wrapped himself in. He would fold each one before going to unwrap the next, which irked me completely. If it were me, I'd just throw all the blankets off and let whoever found the mess pick it up.

Of course, that kind of logic was why my mother would get down on me about not taking responsibility for my actions.

"So when do you think he'll be up?" Shane looked at me.

"In a few hours, maybe. He looked pretty tired when he got back, although he never has really been too much of a sleeping in kind of person," I explained. Shane shook his head.

"Not true," he said. "When it was just me and him, he slept a lot. No idea why he picked up on a normal sleeping habit, but he did. Maybe you and Ryan make him feel uneasy when it comes to sleeping in."

"Maybe you're stupid," I replied. Stupid comeback, but it's all I had. Shane rolled his eyes and continued taking off his blankets. "Ever think about the future, Shane?"

"Um... no?" Shane quirked an eyebrow, obviously confused over my question. "Why?"

"I've just been thinking about the aging thing lately; us being stuck at our ages and everything. I know Ryan has too," I explained. "In one hundred years, everyone we know will be dead. Shane, that means Art. What'll you do when he dies?"

Okay, so I couldn't keep quiet. Downer as I was being, I just wanted to know.

Shane looked down at the floor in thought. I guess this kind of thing didn't occur to him. He looked over at me.

"I have no idea," he said. "To be honest, I'd probably just off myself if I could."

Was he serious? I didn't know. I never knew Shane to be so over the top. All I could really do was stare at him.

"I mean it, Brendon. You ever met someone, and for some reason, you know that if anything happened to them, you wouldn't be able to go on?" Shane asked. I shook my head. I felt bad for asking, somehow. "I wasn't happy with myself when I was human, Brendon. Sure, I was a photographer, had good friends and family, but I just sometimes wondered what the point was. It sounds stupid and corny, but Art changed me. He didn't expect me to be perfect, and he didn't judge me at all. He let me freak out and trash the house, and he wasn't even upset; he just let me be me."

"But what about me and Ryan?" I asked. It was selfish to think about myself when Shane was being so serious. I shouldn't have asked, but there was no way to take it back.

"You two will be fine without me. You seem to be fine being out with people; you'll be okay. Ryan seems to be doing better too," Shane explained. That was it? We'd be fine? We'd miss the hell out of him; especially since he'd be the only parental type figure when Art died.

I realized that I was also getting way ahead of myself. One hundred years was a long way off, and I doubted Art was going to go anywhere any time soon. I looked at Shane.

"Let's just change the subject. Forget I asked anything." I wanted to just stop talking about it; the thought of it was just depressing the hell out of me. I was going to stay quiet, and then boom, I opened my big mouth.

I had to learn to just listen to a decent sounding thought and follow through with it.