An Undead Boy

After yesterday, being around other people frightens me. I'm waiting for the school bell to signal the end of the day but today has passed extraordinarily slowly. In the fear of having some sort of zombie relapse, I've distanced myself from everyone - even Danielle. I know the best solution is to tell her what has happened but I can't bring myself to do it in case she is repulsed by me. Again, I know that I'm being selfish but I don't want her to see me as everybody else does.

The bell rings and I let the others in my class stomp out before I follow. I just need to make it to my locker and then I can go back to my room.

It's incredible how the student body haven't got used to me after all these months. Even now as I shuffle down the corridor, I can hear the accusatory whispers behind me and feel the stares on the back of my head. If I can make it through the next couple of months, I'll be free of the necessity of attending school.

In July, I can finally leave. I remember that first assembly when I came back to school and I know that I won't be going to college, or sixth form, or taking up an apprenticeship. I'll get out of my mother's hair, maybe travel the country where people haven't heard about that kid who died but isn't dead. I might find acceptance somewhere else.

My mind wanders idly to thoughts of a seaside town. I could withdraw all the money in my bank account - savings from since I was a baby - and rent a flat or a room by a beach. I could find a part time job for the up-keep and I won't even have the need to pay for heating or food so it won't cost me much. I could explore the nearby clifftops and fields and stare out to where the sky embraces the sea. I really could be free.

But I only have one problem with that plan, only one thing holding me back.

And she's leaning against my locker, her arms crossed over her chest.

"I don't know what's going on with you but God, I wish you'd tell me on the days you don't want to see me." Danielle snaps, tears springing up in her eyes. I'm conscious of the other people in the corridor watching us and try to usher her some place private.

"No - let them look." she says clearly, unhitching herself from the wall of lockers. "Why don't you want to see me?"

I'd be burning with embarrassment if I could. Behind Danielle, a group of girls are clutching each other and murmuring furiously between themselves. A teacher, balancing a pile of books in one hand and a bag in the other, has forgotten the urgent need to get home and is listening in shamelessly. Secondary school problems are apparently multiplied tenfold when you're a zombie.

"I always want to see you." I mutter, ignoring the fresh wave of gossip resounding at me from all directions.

Danielle blinks, taken aback, but shakes her head violently and starts to walk to the doors. I hurry after her and so do the crowd. You would think that we are putting on a performance for them.

"Don't give me that, don't give me any of that again. You need to start explaining Charlie because I don't know what you want from me anymore."

We break through the school doors and I have to jog to keep up with her. Our audience has just tripled in size, a mixture of students and parents collecting their children. Danielle is unperturbed by this and stops by the gates, right in the middle of everyone. I can think of at least ten other places I'd rather be with Danielle confronting me but I know I don't get to make that choice. Surely somewhere in the crowd, Mark is watching.

But what can I say? It's not you, it's me? I'm sorry that I tried to eat my mother and it's the only reason I've decided to avoid you, just in case I get the munchies again? We're better off as pen pals?

"It's not easy." I tell her carefully, monitoring my words because of the mass of people around us. "When I try and do the right thing but you think I'm doing the wrong thing."

Danielle opens her mouth, her face flashing with vulnerability, but the voice I hear doesn't come from her. For one, it's deeper and angrier and for another, Danielle would never say what the voice says next.

"Get away from that thing!"

I don't recognise this voice but from the look on Danielle's face, she does. She spins around and, despite seeing Danielle's total panic at the voice, I peer around her to see the latest member of the Charlie Hate Mob.

"I'm telling you now Danielle, come over here this second!"

The high and scratchy pitch doesn't match up to the person I am looking at. She seems to be in her forties, though she still retains a vast amount of youth in her appearance - shining, thick hair, smooth skin, not a hint of middle-age paunch about her. However, I'm happy to see the thick veins protruding from her hands like cables, the only tell-tale sign of her true years and the only reassurance that this woman isn't some sort of age-defying, super human. She's currently tugging so hard on Danielle's arm that I'm worried she's going to pull her arm from the socket.

"Mum, please - "

Of course, Danielle's mother. As concerned as I am to be confronted with the woman who kept Danielle away from me at Christmas, I feel a surge of courage and take a step towards the warring mother and daughter.

"I'd appreciate it if you let go of Danielle, ma'am."

She is undeniably unhinged at this comment. Even Danielle has stopped struggling against her mother's tight grip to glance fearfully between us.

"You told me that you were never going to see him again." her voice is no longer high or scratchy; instead, the words whistle through her teeth, low and venomous. It would have been enough to raise the hairs on neck, or the goosebumps on my arms.

To the credit of everyone present, they don't utter a single word about my friendship with Danielle. I don't know whether this is because they don't want to take their chances in a face off with this hostile looking woman or if they're just enjoying the show too much to interrupt. Whatever the reason, I'm glad of it.

Danielle doesn't seem to agree. She's staring at me like I'm a revelation, one that she doesn't want to see.

"You're right, I did. I don't know what I was thinking. I broke that promise and it was such a stupid thing to do."

Her mother watches me constantly, as if I'm about to fly at her with bared teeth. For all I know, I might. I could. But I'm trying to deal with what Danielle has just said and I think it's enough to keep my mind off eating anyone, no matter how unpleasant they are.

"How can I believe you after last time?"

"Because I realise now; he's more trouble than he's worth. You were right, he attracts danger and I don't want to be in the firing line anymore. I'm sick of all the risks and the hiding and the threats, I just want a normal life again." Danielle sniffs tearfully, sagging into her mothers arms, willingly this time.

"Danielle?" I say but her mother cuts across me.

"Don't you dare talk to my daughter! Look at you, reaching for human life. It's despicable. How can you live with yourself?" she stops and cackles mirthlessly. "How silly of me, I forgot. You aren't alive."

The crowd around me falls away and I feel like I'm suspended in nothingness. I put a hand on my chest, the all too familiar absence of my heart, and my breathing stops altogether. All I can feel is bone beneath my shirt and all I can see is bone beneath my skin. Wasted away, skeletal, lifeless. Her cruelty has hit its target and it's enough to leave me motionless, even as she makes away with Danielle tucked under her arm.

Eventually, the onlookers disperse one by one and I'm left alone by the school gates, contemplating the loss of Danielle and the loss of myself.



It's funny how the phrase 'It's funny' isn't funny at all, but here I am, wondering that it's funny how Danielle was the one seeking me out at school earlier but now I'm the one searching for her. The irony isn't lost on me.

I couldn't let what was said between us go, not without an attempt at talking it through or a chance to win her back.

I'm walking toward the driveway of her house but something bright and yellow on the ground catches my attention. The weather has been poor this year and as a result, the flowers have suffered but miraculously, daffodils have managed to spring from the almost uninhabitable dirt at the bottom of Danielle's house. The brightness of the drooping flowers reminds me of her room and I pluck one carefully between my fingers, hoping that she'll see the spirit that the flower embodies and what it represents in my mind.

With the flower in hand, I reach to ring the bell, not thinking of the consequences of turning up at Danielle's house where anyone can answer the door to me. I'm in luck though; Danielle opens it, still in her school clothes but her hair down. At the sight of her, my words get stuck in my throat.

My lack of conversation evident, she takes charge but shakes her head ruefully.

"What're you doing here? This is so stupid of you!" she whispers, pulling the door close to her to block my view of the hallway.

"Please - just give me another chance. I know your mum told you to stay away from me and I know you said you wanted to be normal but I can't be like this, I can't be me without you."

"Charlie, you don't understand - "

"What's going on?"

Danielle's face is momentarily startled at the voice behind her. Her fingers tighten on the doorknob before it's wrenched from her grip, swinging open to reveal a man. He strikes such a strong resemblance to Danielle that I can only assume that it is one of her brothers.

He is short - like Danielle - and stocky, though not in a way that makes him appear unfit. Any traces of those uncomfortable teen years have long left him; he carries himself with a self-certainty, something that can only be achieved by surpassing and surviving the aforementioned brutal teen period of life. He grins but it doesn't reach his eyes.

"Mike!"

"You brought a zombie to the house, Elle?"

I'm confused until I realise that he is talking to Danielle. It must be her nickname at home. She looks between us skittishly, probably thinking that she never dreamed that me and her brother would ever meet.

When she remains quiet, her brother speaks up again. "Mum won't be too pleased that he's here. How did he find us?"

There is a millisecond of gaping, hideous silence and Danielle stares at her brother - Mike - and then at me, stood on her doorstep with a wilted daffodil in my hands - all of a sudden, it feels like such a feeble hope for reconciliation. The glance is so darting that I'm only half sure I witnessed it but the moment passes and she addresses Mike.

"Don't tell her! I'm getting rid of him. He must have followed me or something from school." Danielle insists, turning to me with a look of total vexation.

This almost knocks me down but I somehow stay rooted on my feet. I do not anticipate her next words though because if I had, I would have prepared myself.

"Go home. I don't know why you came here or what impression you're under but it's the wrong one. You're daydreaming...corpse."

She hurls the word I once used on her back at me but it stings, reminiscent of the physical pain I once felt only it cuts much deeper. Even the slam of the door in my face doesn't hold a candle to the acute agony that her proclamation has left.

I do not know what I was expecting when I turned up here but I must have been optimistic because the disbelief is so astounding. I really have lost Danielle.

The flower seems to burn my skin and I cast it aside, unable to bear its sunniness. I have nothing to do but return home but the whole way back I look over my shoulder, hoping to see her there.