An Undead Boy

It's a Friday when something changes. I have been at school for three weeks now, successfully skipped all P.E. lessons and have used the time indispensably by doing school work. I don't think I ever tried this hard while I was still breathing. If I could, I'd be breaking out in sweat with the workload; I'm a little confused as to why my peers aren't having breakdowns but they all seem relatively happy and relaxed.

During my free period that was formerly filled with Physical Education, I sit in the library away from everybody else. It's quiet here and students rarely come in, which I find incredible. Towards the end of my life, I discovered we had this library when I was forced to research into World War II for History. I wasn't keen on books but I still managed to feel slightly awed when I walked in here that first time. Our school isn't one of the richest, our classrooms are a little dated but they sure got the library right. There's a plaque somewhere in here that tells you how the library managed to attain so many books. They were donated to the school by a former pupil who found fame and he decided that other students deserved a chance, too. It's one of the nicest things that I've ever come across. I wonder if he'd be as thoughtful towards me.

I'm scanning the dusty shelves for a book that will help with my Literature essay; I find it slightly ironic that it's based on Mary Shelley's Frankenstein. Contrary to popular belief, the monster isn't actually named Frankenstein - it's the creator who has that unfortunate pleasure. As I stoop low over a particularly battered book, there's a scuffle beside me and I freeze. Somebody is actually willing to stand next to me?

I peer up with my hand still on the damaged book and blink. It's the girl from English.

She's staring down at me with her wide eyes and there's a moment of apprehension between us. We are both studying the other, trying to guess what will happen. I slide the book back on the shelf and slowly straighten up. We're eye to eye but she doesn't jump back.

I want to ask her what she wants but my mouth is glued shut. Human interaction is practically new to me now, I can barely remember what is considered polite. What do you say to a non-zombie? Lovely day we're having? Do you come here often? How's life going? Everything seems too insensitive because no doubt, those questions will be repeated back to me and I can't answer them cheerfully. I never have a lovely day, I always come here because there's nowhere else for me to go and my life stopped going anywhere the moment I got hit by that car.

"Hello." she breathes and it fans across my face. I'm a little shocked to feel the warmth of human life.

This is a big step for her, I can see it. She must have been deliberating over this for days, maybe even the past few weeks, on how best to approach me and it shows. She's nervous and I don't blame her. Her eyes keep darting around the library, looking for other people. She doesn't want to be seen with me by anyone else.

"Why are you talking to me?"

The girl is taken aback by my question. She bites her lip, chewing it almost carelessly. I don't think she is aware she is even doing it. Before she replies, she looks around the library once again and shrinks further into the shadow of the bookcase.

"Because I thought you might want company."

I wheeze out a laugh. She isn't acting like she wants to be around me. The others must have quickly gotten over their frightened phase and moved onto wanting to making my (un)life hell. This must be some sort of practical joke.

"I don't want trouble, why can't you just leave me alone?" I ask, stepping away from her.

She shakes her head and closes the space between us, grasping my cold hands in hers. I gasp and it's my turn to glance around the empty library anxiously. Her eyes search mine, as if they are windows that she can suck my thoughts through into her brain.

"No, I don't want to cause trouble. I really want to be your friend." she insists urgently. "Don't be scared."

I pull my hands out of hers. "I should be the one saying that."

She crosses her arms, her face puckered. She is angry.

"You don't have to be alone. You're not a freak, you're not something to be afraid of. You're still a teenage boy, Charlie."

I'm silent. This is what I tell myself everyday but I thought I would be the only one to say the words, or even think them. The Girl with the Ponytail can see the real me, not the undead, evil dangerous Charlie that everybody else sees. I feel a weight in my stomach evaporate, not realising it had been there until now. I'm still unable to believe her though.

"Why do you look so nervous around me?

She smiles a little, apologetic. "I was worried that if someone saw us, they'd think you were attacking me. It seems like people will jump to conclusions when it concerns you, Charlie."

If my heart could still beat, I'm sure it would be banging against my chest right now.

"Can I trust you?" I'm nearly pleading with her.

"I give you my word. I'm not like the others." she tells me. "I can see that you're not about to bite me. I've been watching you."

That would sound creepy if the circumstances were different but I'm heartened by it. I live in a messed up world but this girl seems to be right next to me in the chaos.

"Are you sure?" I say, using the bookshelf as support. I feel weakened by this unexpected meeting. I'm giving her a chance to back out, knowing our bewildering, potential friendship will not be an easy one.

"Yes. Positive." she assures me, knowing exactly what I'm offering her. I have flung her a literal lifeline and she has denied it.

During this moment though, I don't care what the consequences will be. All I know is that I have a friend, which is more than I ever expected.

"I'm Charlie but you already know that." I pause before I hold out my hand to her, a little greedy for the contact I haven't had for months.

She grabs it and shakes, unblinkingly. My icy hand appears to affect her in no visible way. The heat from hers radiates into mine and I nearly grin.

"Danielle. It's a pleasure to meet you, Charlie."