An Undead Boy

Now that Christmas is over, I am feeling lonely again. Even New Year has come and passed and Danielle has not been in contact for several days now; exactly ten days. I hope her mother didn't catch us on Christmas day. The frame she made me is sitting on my shelf, away from everything else. I am scared that I will damage it more if I go near it so I have not been to that side of the room since I placed it there. Perhaps she has seen sense and will refuse to see me again? Her mother, out of fear, locked her in their house maybe? Out of the darkness that is pressing in at me from all sides, a phone beeps. I slowly look over at it, half concealed beneath scrunched up paper balls and watch the screen flash.

For one wild moment, I think it's Danielle. Danielle does not have my number. I know what you're thinking though. A zombie with a mobile phone? Really? I may be dead but I am still a teenager. Besides, I think I've established the fact that I'm not a conventional zombie. No one phones me or anything anymore though; the last text message I received was the day I died and it was from James though what it was about, I cannot remember. Possibly something trivial to do with a football game that had been shown on the television the night before or just a random message insulting me out of good humour. I feel a pang in my stomach remembering the banter of friendship. My phone flashes again.

I stumble over to it, kicking aside the junk on my floor. I might regret it later if I find out I've ruined one of my favourite books but right now, my phone holds all my attention. I can't think of anyone who would want to contact me.

A smile flickers briefly on my deathly face. It is from my Aunt Mimi. After everything that has happened, I had forgotten all about her. She is my mother's sister and a free spirit which is partially the reason why she was cast out by my mother; her flighty personality was not only the complete opposite of my mother's which meant they never saw eye to eye anyway, but also because of a fight that had occurred between the two of them when I was five years old. To this day I have never found out the reason for this feud but Aunt Mimi has maintained a (staggered) amount of contact with me always. My eyes eagerly read through the text.

"Charlie, happy new year! I know it's been a while since I last messaged you but I've been trekking all over Scotland with a travelling fair! Isn't that amazing? I've learnt so much about making candy floss and toffee apples. It's so much fun sleeping in my home-made tent, though I must admit it is in need of waterproofing. I've made a new years resolution to destroy this phone because I've stopped believing in them, so please don't reply because I fear it will be in vain. Try not to worry too much though, dear, I will find ways of contacting you. Anyway, I'm waffling on too much so have a happy new year and I hope all your dreams come true! Love you dearly, Charlie-Boy. Don't let the woman get you down! Aunt Mimi xxx"

I snorted softly at 'don't let the woman get you down'. I know she is referring to mother, who is so unlike her sister. My Mum rarely does anything out of spontaneity, she would never want to learn how to make candy floss or sleep in a tent she made herself - or even a tent at all.

My Aunt was a special sort of person, the kind who never judged someone because of how they looked or what they have done. She believed in second chances determinedly (she tried to meet up with my mother after their argument but my mother holds grudges and is relentless to those who have wronged her) and always had time for those in need. Before she and my mother fell out, she used to do these little things - leave paper notes around the house for us to find, with unimportant messages written on them like "Hello. Have a nice day, Charlie." or "Be kind. Try." and finding them was like discovering hidden treasures. My mother searched our house after Aunt Mimi stormed out, ripping up those little papers like they didn't matter. I tried to save as many as I could; there's a box underneath my bed, just filled with those notes. I might get the box out one day and read them all.

I wish that I could have remembered her before she decided to get rid of her mobile phone. I would have texted her or phoned her or anything, just to hear from a genuinely loving person. I wonder how she would react to me now? Everything she loves, I am not. Warmth, life, happiness. Would these faults of mine cause her to turn her back on those incredible beliefs? Would she embrace me in the way she used to, knowing that I was a shell? No longer with soul, or spirit, or sheer character?

I read the text message again, storing it preciously in my memory, swearing to hold it close forever.

Tap.

I glance around, startled by the sound in my silent room. Where had it come from?

Tap.

There it is again. I walk over to the window and squint out into the darkness. A dark shadow is moving around on my front garden and I recognise the flash of blonde hair. Danielle.

I move as quickly and quietly as I can, stopping when I reach the door. I turn around, deliberate for a moment then scuttle back to my bed and reach under. The muscles in my arm are stiff but I manage to inch my hand closer and closer to the box that rests beneath a layer of fine dust and dead spiders. Snatching it up, I hurry onto the landing, tip-toeing past my mother's bedroom, before taking the steps of the stairs two at a time. When I finally wrench open the front door, Danielle is stood under the tree on my front garden, her beaming face illuminated from the streetlight above us.

"Oh Charlie - I'm so sorry. I'm an awful person." she says in a hushed voice, her teary eyes zooming across my face. "My mother saw us on Christmas."

For a split second, I'm angry. She let her mother influence her decisions, stopped herself from doing what she felt was right and stopped herself from seeing me. But I see sense. I haven't let her explain. I owe her that.

"What happened?" I ask, trying to keep my voice gentle and neutral.

Danielle's lip trembled. "Please don't be mad, I know I should have told her where to stick her lecture on what's 'normal'. But I was scared, Charlie. I don't know what mum would do if I refused to stop seeing you - she could have, could have - I don't know, twisted my story and got you into trouble. I didn't want that. I had to pretend like I saw the light or something, I had to stay away for a few days to at least appease her."

The box in my hand lowers slightly. "Saw the light?" I mumble disappointed.

Danielle looks horror-struck. "Oh no! Not like that, Charlie. I didn't mean to offend you. Just, that's how she see's it, you know? She's like everybody else." she says bitterly.

We fall into silence and the wind howls between us, like Fate mocking our friendship. I can hear Danielle's teeth chattering, even over the screaming wind and I see what she is wearing. A light jacket over a thin pair of pyjama trousers and a white camisole, a pair of slip-on shoes and that red beret she wore on Christmas. Her hair is down again. I immediately shrug off my own hoodie and wrap it around her shoulders. She smiles gratefully at me.

"Won't you get cold?"

"No; dead remember? I can't feel the cold.I'm cold."

We stare at each other and the wind whips her hair around our faces. I notice how close we are and step back, barking out a cough even though I don't need to. I remember the box in my hand and silently offer it to her.

"What's this?" she says, taking it from me and peeling off the lid. Inside, the paper notes rustle in the air.

"I didn't get you a Christmas present so this is kind of a belated one." I grin, reaching into the box and pulling out an old receipt with scrawl on the back of it.

Danielle looks at me questioningly so I read out the writing.

"Save the last piece of cake for another. Unless it's your birthday cake - you deserve it, buddy."

She looks bemused at first but then bursts into peals of laughter. My own chest heaves and I wheeze, the best uncontrollable laughter I have. Somehow, it doesn't tarnish the moment.

"What was that?" she pants, wiping tears from her eyes. She takes the receipt out of my hand and reads it again.

"My Aunt - she's a great woman. Used to leave all these notes over the house for us to find. I rescued them all."

She doesn't ask me why I had to rescue them, just places the receipt back in the box carefully and puts the lid back on before hugging it to her chest.

"She sounds like an amazing person, Charlie. Thank you."

I just nod, it's the only thing I think to do. Danielle checks her watch and smiles grimly at me.

"I'm sorry, Charlie. I have to go. My mum might check on me, she's taken that up lately." she scowls, a dark look flitting over her face. It doesn't suit her.

"Oh, yeah. Of course." I say, trying not to sound too glum. I awkwardly shift on my feet, not knowing how to say goodbye. Do we hug? Shake hands? "You can keep the jacket, by the way. You need it more than I do - just don't let your mother see."

Danielle doesn't hesitate. She steps up to me and lightly brushes her lips on my cheek, blushing as brightly as her red hat. If I could, I know that I would be blushing too.

"Bye, Charlie."

I watch her until she fades into the darkness.