Confessions of a Teenage Zombie

After an hour of chatting with Shane and Art, I left the living room and wandered into the kitchen, wondering what to do with myself. I didn't want to go back outside, but it was completely boring being inside. I could be mean to Ryan, but that gets old pretty fast.

I looked at the phone, wondering if I should just call Brent. Maybe he was done with the seance class, and he'd be up for a sleepover or something. Things were always more fun with Brent!

I grabbed the phone and dialed Brent's number. It rang a few times before someone finally picked up.

“Wilson residence.” It was Blake, Brent's younger brother. I stayed silent, trying to think of what to say and how to say it.

“Brent there?” I inquired in a deep English accent. “It is Brendon McMurray, a dear friend of his. I wish to speak with him.”

“How come I've never heard of this dear friend?” Blake inquired. I wondered why I thought that my introduction seemed like a good statement. I cleared my throat.

“Oh, ol' chum, don't be like that!” I was making things worse with each word I spoke. It's like my brain was against me, and ordered me to say such stupid things. “Can you please just get Brent on the phone?”

“Fine.” I heard Blake slam the phone on the table before yelling something to someone. He was such a sweet boy last I saw him, and he seemed so bitchy now. I hoped this Spencer guy wasn't a horrible influence on him.

“Hello?” Brent said.

“It's me!” I exclaimed. “Sorry about the whole Brendon McMurray thing. I needed to think of something so Blake would get you, and it's kind of my new identity when I'm out.”

“Why are you British, though?” Brent asked. “Also, Brendon? Really? You couldn't think of a different name for yourself? You might be speaking differently, but you still look like Brendon Urie.”

“Are you going to judge my choice in new identity, or are you going to accept my gracious invitation for a sleepover here?” I kicked a chair dramatically.

“Well, why didn't you just say so?” Brent yawned. “A sleepover sounds fantastic.”

“I know.” I was awesome, and I never denied it. “So why is Blake in such a bitchy mood? He was kinda rude to me.”

“Well, a random British person calls saying that he's my dear friend? You should've given me a bit of notice so I could bring you up at times,” Brent explained. Made sense. “So just come over?”

“Yeah, that would be fine. It's kinda boring here,” I replied.

“Great. Be there in two shakes of a lamb's tail.” Brent hung up, leaving me to stare at the receiver. Brent always used such lame phrases. I ran out of the kitchen and into the living room. Art and Shane had not moved a bit since I left, not that I was gone for too long.

“Brent's coming here for a sleepover!” I exclaimed, jumping onto the couch to sit on Shane's other side. Shane looked at me, a confused expression on his face.

“Who's Brent?” he inquired.

“The friend I mentioned when you woke up. We've been friends for a few years, and he's the only outsider who knows about all of us. I'm bored, so I asked if he wanted to have a sleepover.” I turned to Art. “That's okay, right?”

“It's fine,” Art said. A bruise looked like it was starting to form on his arm; probably from when Shane jumped him.

I wanted to jump up and start doing a dance. After two months of thinking we were all supposed to stay here for eternity, I was going to have a friend over. And so, I did get up and start doing a dance.

Twenty minutes later, and Brent had finally arrived. I had seen him walking to the house from down the street, and I raced out to greet him. We were now in the upstairs hallway, planning what exciting things to do. I was planning, anyway. Brent was listening, which is what he did best.

“I think we should make delicious cupcakes and then eat them like little greedy piggies!” I exclaimed. Brent laughed. “Sure, it will taste like crap to me, but in theory, they'd be good.”

“Or we could chill and talk about the good old days,” Brent suggested.

“We could,” I mumbled. I wasn't good at talking as I was at doing. I was an action kind of guy; I needed movement and stimulation. Brent wasn't, which is probably why we were so good together. “Wanna go make Ryan cry? It's fun.”

“Didn't you basically say anything can set him off?” Brent asked. I nodded my head. “How is it fun if you know it's going to happen? And how can it be fun when it's so mean?”

“I guess you learn to stop giving such a shit when you're dead,” I explained.

“That's horrible. You should still care about someone's feelings. Alive or dead, you can still make a difference. And besides, you're undead. There's a difference.” Brent shrugged his shoulders. Him and his spiels about humanity. He looked around. “Where's the bathroom?”

“All the way down the hall, to the left at the end,” I explained. Brent smiled and made his way down the hall. I looked in the direction of Ryan's room, wondering if I should ask if he wanted to hang out with Brent and I. Maybe it would chill him out, and I could learn more about him.

Or he would get sad because he missed being alive or something, and he'd spend the time sulking like a little bitch.

Decisions, decisions.

“Ryan!” I decided I could try and be nice and friendly. I was probably going to be living with this guy for awhile, so why not? I walked into his room, only to find that he wasn't in there. I didn't remember seeing him downstairs either, so where he could be, I had no idea. Maybe he ran away; it wouldn't be too surprising. “Ryan?”

Maybe he was under the bed. I got down on my knees and poked my head under the bed. It was extremely clean, which was the complete opposite of how it was under my bed. But then, Ryan had no way to even make a mess, so it made sense.

I left the room and looked around. I guess if I couldn't find Ryan, he wasn't going to hang out with us. It wasn't a big loss to me, so why bother looking?

Brent came back from the bathroom, Ryan following behind him.

“Dude, I've been looking for you!” I exclaimed, pointing at Ryan. He looked at me, his eyes widened. “Yeah, I was going to ask if you wanted to hang out with us, but you were nowhere to be found.”

“He was in the bathroom,” Brent said. My eyes widened, and I wanted to vomit just a little. “What? No! He was in there when I found it, so I asked if he could leave so I could go.”

“Oh.” I put my hand over my heart and sighed in relief. I looked at Ryan, who was staring at the floor. “So do you want to hang out with us or not?”

“I couldn't. I don't want to be a bother, and you guys are such good friends. I'd just be a nuisance,” he murmured. I guess I could've said something to the contrary, but I didn't feel like being nice.

“Fine,” I replied. Ryan smiled a little before going into his room. Did he like being treated like shit or something? Because if someone were being a jackass to me, I'd be pretty angry. I looked at Brent, who was blinking. “Hey, I tried being nice.”

“I was right here. I witnessed it.” Brent shrugged his shoulders. “You did try; Ryan said no. I get it. No need to explain the situation.”

We turned and went into my room.

“So who was that guy in the living room with Art?” Brent asked as I closed my door. He threw his dufflebag to the corner and sat down in a bright green leather chair. Shane thought the chair was hideous, but what does he know? It's my room, anyway.

“Shane, the vampire I mentioned a couple hours before,” I replied. “Yeah, he's a good friend of mine. Him and Art are a couple, the lucky ducks.”

“Lucky ducks?” Brent arched an eyebrow. I sat down on the bed. He turned to face me.

“I don't know. It's probably just nice to have someone love you. Shane's reason for falling for Art is odd, but the guy obviously loves him unconditionally.” I sounded so sappy. This was totally not me. “You know what? Let's change the subject.”

“You started it,” Brent stated. “So how did you guys all get to your current states anyway? You, Ryan and Shane. I'm curious.”

“Someone dared Shane to run into a bat cave when he was drunk, and the idiot totally did.” I laughed, because it was a humorous story, actually. “Anyway, he got attacked by the caves inhabitants, and I guess he turned. As for Ryan, I have no idea how he turned into a ghost. Well, obviously he died, but you don't see tons of ghosts wandering around. I'm not sure about myself, either.”

“Does Art know?” Brent leaned forward. “I mean, he is the head of the household it seems. He found all of you, right?”

“Yeah, he did. Not sure if he does know or not, honestly,” I explained. “I have no idea what he's all about, or what can be going through his head. I know he's nice, so I suppose that's all that matters.”

“That's true.” Brent folded one leg over the other, as did I. He looked around the room, probably taking in the color. In a bad situation where I couldn't decide what color to paint my room, I decided on my four favorite colors; red, blue, yellow, and green. All super bright, not to mention a little blinding when the sun was just right. “Brendon, it kind of looks like a clown puked on your walls.”

“Well I like the colors!” I screamed. Brent leaned back, and I took in a deep breath. I cleared my throat. “So... How was the seance class thing you did?”

“Tiring,” Brent said. “The people asked a bunch of stupid questions, some of which had nothing to do with anything. I wanted to yell at them, but it wasn't my class to teach. I was just helping. Blake's lucky; he doesn't have to help at all. He went with his boyfriend to the mall. You know, I don't even think I like the idea of Blake having a boyfriend at his age.”

“I know, because you always thought you'd be the first to date,” I rolled my eyes.

“No, no, not because of that. He's only fifteen, remember?” Brent sighed. “And Spencer's our age. I just don't want Blake to be taken advantage of or anything.”

“I thought you said Spencer was nice,” I stated. I understood what Brent was saying and all, but he was also just being a big brother. He sometimes had the tendency of being a bit paranoid, too.

Although it's not like I haven't been paranoid ever.