Field of Corpses

I slipped out Paul’s window after we had separated from our long hug goodbye, and I left with a null feeling. That wasn’t new though; that was how I felt everyday. It was just that this time I was leaving a friend behind, and not in the dying sense.

In the corner of my eye something startled me. It surprised me more that I even got so shocked. Typically, I never got scared. I wasn’t even too sure if I could still feel those emotions, but at that short moment, my heart was seriously beating a bit faster than it normally attempted. I was scared.

About a yard away, there was that Zombie standing there, just staring at me. The one I had thought was going to leave me alone after I got into Paul’s. He didn’t though. That was what concerned me. He was just standing there looking at me.

I knew he could do me no harm though, and even if he could, it wouldn’t matter, so I kept walking towards him. As I urged closer, he seemed to get more familiar. I seemed to recognize him, and as soon as I got close enough, I knew who it was.

“Josh.” I gasped quietly under my breath. I had never seen him in person before, and when I was alive, I never expected it to be like this.

I stood in front of him, and he stayed put. His jaw was wide open, and his face was scabbed. His hair was a mess under his black top hat, and his torn clothes showed his oozing and tearing skin. I could hardly find any flesh that was nomal looking. His clothing style stayed the same, but everything else was so different. I couldn’t believe I actually remembered him. It had been a year since we’ve talked.

“Josh,” I say again, even though he can’t speak back, “you follwed me.”

He nodded his head slowly.

“Why?” I knew it would be hard for him to answer, but his eyes told me everything.

He stared at me so blankly, but his eyes were full of sorrow. Judging from the lack of skin on his feet, I could tell he had been walking a long way. It made sense though, because last I checked he lived clear up on the southside of the state. I guessed he died, and like the others, just decided to walk around aimlessly. He had nothing better to do, but somehow he was able to spot and recognize me. It was pointless though; I had nothing to say to him, and he had nothing to say to me.

“Well I’m sorry.” I said sincerely. I didn’t like the guy, but I did feel bad for his state. I felt bad for everyzombie. A lot of them really didn’t deserve it, but that wasn’t Josh’s case.

“I can’t believe you remembered me though. I mean, it’s cool, but it serves no purpose. I don’t want to talk to you, because everything I want to say is completely hateful, and it won’t matter anyway. You’re already dead; I think you’re being punished as it is.”

Again, he just stared at me. He didn’t seem to care that I was still angry with him. I wasn’t too sure of what to do, so I started to walk away. Before I could even take a step though, my arm was clenched in his hand.

“Let go.” I said firmly.

He kept quiet, and his grip. He needed something, I could tell by the strength he was using to keep me in place.

“What do you want?” I said coldy. After I died, my niceness ran thin.

He opened his mouth to speak, but his tongue was missing, so it came out a slur of mumbles and grunts. But being a zombie myself, I could clearly understand what he was wanting from me. I understood what he had said; “Kill me.”

My eyes widened, and my anger faded. I remember thinking back to the day I wished I could see him in so much pain, and so close to death, but now that he was already a walking corpse, I couldn’t think of how I wanted that to be. Even though he hurt me, I knew I could never hurt him. Not anyone for that matter, but Josh wanted me to kill him.

“Remember how we first started talking?” I asked rhetorically. “Remember how we used to talk all the time, but you never wanted me? The days we were supposed to meet you always lied so you wouldn’t have to? And remember that day when you so bluntly burned all my hopes? Yea, I don’t think you deserve my help. But because I know what you’re feeling, I’m going to be nice to you.”

In the last second that he was standing before me, I saw a tear fall down his cheek. It made me question so many things, but it didn’t stop me. Before he could even make a move, I grabbed his head with both of my hands, and I twisted it and ripped it off his body. His body fell, and I dropped his head. Blood got all over my shoes, and his hand was still holding onto my arm.

I peeled his hand off my body and threw it to the ground. It was a twisted mess in front of me, but I kept walking. If it had been a few months ago, I would have stopped to look and think about what I had done. I know it wasn’t wrong, but I would have been in deep thought over it. It was too late for that though; I had died too much inside, and I still didn’t care about hardly anything.

As I kept walking, and I got through the hole in the fence by Paul’s, I stopped to look around me. Getting stoned never helped my situation by any, but I had always loved that feeling it brought to me. Sure it made my brain even more stupid than it already was, but it made me feel different. I loved different because I hated how I felt the same way everyday. I hated how I was so alike with everyzombie else. Just being able to smoke it alone made me different, but the fact it changed my mental state was the greatest difference.

I looked around at how empty that street was. There was still skulls, bones, blood, and limbs, but it was zombie-ridden. I was the only one. It felt so strange, and it looked even weirder. At that moment, I knew where I wanted to be; I wanted to be somewhere that didn’t make me think about how dead I was. I wanted to try and ignore that as much as possible.

It wasn’t possible though. Before I could even think my next thought, I felt a gush of blood drip down my face and onto my shirt.

“Godammit!” I yelled. “That was my last Green Day shirt that wasn’t stained!”

I stormed off down the road and I put my hand to my forehead. I felt around with my finger tips, and my skin had torn again. I had another random gash that had just been imprinted on my head. It was a rather large one, and the blood wouldn’t stop. Though, it could keep me entertained for my entire high; I could feel my skull’s surface as I traced my finger over the torn skin. I thought it felt pretty cool, so I fingered with it as I walked on down the road.

Minutes later, after I had put my iPod on, I got lost into thought. I did that often, but never about where it is I should go or be. I was thinking of what direction I should go to try and find another half-living zombie like me. I was indecisive, but I kept walking. I was walking in whatever direction I was facing, and I had gotten so deep in thought that I didn’t pay any attention.

By the time I snapped out of it, I was already miles northwest from the main road mine and Paul’s house sat on. I hadn’t come down from my high, and I was still not sure of where I wanted to be.

My body made it’s own decision though, because I didn’t bother to turn around. Maybe something was telling me to head the direction I was headed. But I doubted that; I didn’t believe in God or any of that religious bullshit before I died, and I definitely didn’t now.