I never ment to hurt anyone. It was uncontrollable, the harder I tried to fight it, the more I realized there was nothing to fight. I didn’t understand what had happened, I didn’t want to understand. I wanted it all back, my life, the world, my Karen. Everything.
Id woken up that morning to find myself late for work..again. I wasent a very punctual man, always late, never knew exactly what to say and when I tried to it came out all sorts of wrong. Thank God for Karen though, she knew my words before I did, I don’t know what id do without her.
“Riley! Are you home?”
“uhh, im off today..”
She knew I was lying, she could hear it in my voice but she didn’t care, I was hers today.
I don’t know how I dint notice the fact that no one called to ask me where I was. The TV stations were out, I though maybe something was wrong with the cable, it did that sometimes. It was quiet all day. Then I answered the door, and that’s when everyting went wrong.
Some man pushed his way in, he said he needed help. He looked like he was attacked by dogs, or some animal. I was just staring at him, he was so bloody. I realized I had yet to grab the phone to call 911, so I did just that. It was busy. How the fuck, is 911 busy, I thought. Karen came downstairs, and she helped the man to sit down. Then he started to convulse, or something. We didn’t know what to do, neither of us really knew CPR, except what we had seen on those stupid hospital shows that she makes me watch. The convulsing turned to twitching, and that led to the stillness. I knew he was gone.
We kept dialing 911, nothing. Nothing, there was nothing. We went back upstairs, so I could lay down, and to keep calling 911. What was I suppose to do, there was a dead, stranger, in my house. I don’t know how we managed to, but we fell asleep.
I don’t know why I woke up, but I did. Animal instinct maybe? Well I woke up to find that stranger very much alive. He was in our bedroom door way, just staring at us. I shook Karen up.
“are you ok??! We thought you were, well, gone! Weve been calling 911, but its…busy”
He looked different. Paler, agitated, and he didn’t say a word. Then he screamed, more like, screatched. And he ran at us. I pushed Karen off the bed, and I jumped at him. I don’t know what his problem was but I wasn’t going to let him hurt her, I don’t care how bad hes hurt. I wrestled him to the ground, but he bit me and I let go. He got a good chunck out of me too! I grabbed my golf club and I swung. “Self defence right? That’s what ill tell the police” is what I thought when I swung. He was out. Karen was screaming her head off of course. When she noticed me bleeding from where he had bitten me she lost it. Silly Karen, always making big deals out of nothing, it was a bite. All i needed was a bandage.
I instantly felt dizzy though. I thought maybe it was the hydrenalen? So I sat down. She was getting some bandages. I plopped myself on our bed as she began to bandage me, and that’s where it gets fuzzy.
I remember it being hard to breathe, and then nothing. I woke up and Karen was in a corner, staring at me. She looked as though she was crying, and I wanted to go hold her, but my body didn’t move. Well, it did move, it just didn’t do what I was trying to do. My body was just standing there, I couldn’t make myself move, talk, I wasn’t even sure if I was breathing.
“please! Riley please..” she said to me.
Please what? It didn’t feel real.
My body, I, ran at her. Tried to grab her, hurt her and I couldn’t even stop it. It was like watching a train about to crash, you know its going to happen but theres nothing you can do about it. She ran into the restroom and locked the door. I began to hit the door, pounding it till my hands bled. I knew what would happen if I got through. I could feel it. I tried my hardest to to stop. Id give the world to have stopped myself.
I got through. She screamed, there was no where to run. She tried to fight me off, I wish she could have killed me. I threw her to a wall, she was on the floor. I was stronger, faster, I held her down. She looked at me, with her big blue eyes.
“I love you..”
I love you. I loved her more than my own life, I would do anything for this woman. She was worth everything to me, worth dying for, worth killing for.
I couldn’t control what happen next. I tried to with all my might to restrain my body, but nothing worked. I leaned in fast, and bit her cheek, took a piece clean off. Then, I went for the eyes, her beautiful eyes. My thumbs went strait into her sockets. She tried to fight off my arms, but I was too much. She died then. That moment felt like years. I was dying inside, screaming, butit was like space. No one could hear me, I was just a mere thought now.
Her screams stay with me till this day, all their screams do. I go over what happen, every hour of everyday. I know what I am, I thought it was only in movies this could happen, I was a Zombie. I thought in movies, you died and became a Zombie, turns out you live through it all. And theres nothing you can do about it.
So now I wait. I don’t know how long its been, but im waiting for the day that someone kills me. So I can be with my Karen again, I hope she knows I couldn’t control what I did. I hope they all know. Ive killed so many now, women, men, children. Each time I try to stop, but I cant. Now, I don’t even try to stop.
Im slowly going insane, im alone, if I could kill myself I would, but I cant even do that.
©HeyJude
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Monday, September 13, 2010
Forever Changed
The world never knew what was coming. We joked about this fictional horror and labeled it as nonsense. I can remember when it began, for me at least; it was pitch black that night. My yard looked as if a blanket had been thrown over it, the air was crisp and held the faint scent of fresh laundry. That was the day the world changed for not just me but everyone in it, forever.This was the invasion of the Zombies.
I was in the family room attempting to watch my favorite show, but couldn’t over the clashing voices of my mother and brother. “Clean your room! Why cant you do this one thing!” my mom yelled, “its clean enough!! Its MY ROOOM!!!” my brother shouted back. This was a typical Friday night. My father was in the kitchen, I could smell the oregano, so I was looking forward to some spaghetti soon. Fluffy, our dog, was relentlessly barking out the window in our dinning room, barking at nothing but the dark. We thought it was a cat, some animal in the garbage. The window in the dinning room suddenly came crashing down, we were unprepared for what was about to happen to us.
We ran to our dinning room, it was a very plain room except for the dark cherry wood table and the cabinet full of thin china glass. Now the room was loud, full of color, full of red. There was a blood covered man on my floor, I could see his flesh torn, missing, his bones poking out the most unnatural way possible. The oder that was coming from him was unimaginable, it gripped my senses and held them as tight as I could. I couldn’t get a hold of myself, I was going to be sick, I could feel it burning and creeping up my throat but I was too horrified to realize it. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t run, I couldn’t even think straight I was just staring.
Looking back now, I should have known something was wrong. I should have ran, locked the door, grab a bat. Something, I should have done something.
I thought he was dead, but he stood up to stare at us, to stare at me. He looked me in the eye for what felt like a life time, and he ran at me. I could move again but it was too late, all I could do was scream, scream like I never have before, as if it were my last breath. My father had gotten his gun without me noticing, he shot the hollow shell that had been a peron down. First in the arm but that didn’t even phase the creature, than in the head and he stayed down. The second shot was like a rope, pulling me back into reality. We grabbed a few things, canned food, water, clothes, my dads few guns, a cell phone and headed to our SUV. The radio said those, things, were everywhere. They were attacking people, eating them than turning into them. I didn’t know what this was, a disease or our worlds end but I planned to survive. There was a city that was letting uninfected people into it, they were low on supplies but it was secure. The guys on the radio referred to it as the Safe City, and that was our destination.
Everything seemed to change so suddenly, and so drasticly. It didn’t even feel real to me.
We drove for days on end, killing a few of those things on our way. We had a few scares, thinking we were going to die, turn into some mindless thing. I just wanted this to all end. I knew that once this was over, I’d be changed forever. I could see it happening to my family around me, everyone but my father and I had given up hope and reaching Safe City. I was determined. It was dawn, we should have reached the city days ago. I was worried about my mother, she needed normal, that city was our only chance to live and her only chance at sanity. We came over a hill and I felt an instant wave of relief over my entire body. It was like these past few weeks I was choking, that permanent noose around my neck had finally loosened. We pulled up to gates that were as tall as my house, they looked indestructible. It was the SafeCity, and it was on fire. My noose tightened again.
©HeyJude
I was in the family room attempting to watch my favorite show, but couldn’t over the clashing voices of my mother and brother. “Clean your room! Why cant you do this one thing!” my mom yelled, “its clean enough!! Its MY ROOOM!!!” my brother shouted back. This was a typical Friday night. My father was in the kitchen, I could smell the oregano, so I was looking forward to some spaghetti soon. Fluffy, our dog, was relentlessly barking out the window in our dinning room, barking at nothing but the dark. We thought it was a cat, some animal in the garbage. The window in the dinning room suddenly came crashing down, we were unprepared for what was about to happen to us.
We ran to our dinning room, it was a very plain room except for the dark cherry wood table and the cabinet full of thin china glass. Now the room was loud, full of color, full of red. There was a blood covered man on my floor, I could see his flesh torn, missing, his bones poking out the most unnatural way possible. The oder that was coming from him was unimaginable, it gripped my senses and held them as tight as I could. I couldn’t get a hold of myself, I was going to be sick, I could feel it burning and creeping up my throat but I was too horrified to realize it. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t run, I couldn’t even think straight I was just staring.
Looking back now, I should have known something was wrong. I should have ran, locked the door, grab a bat. Something, I should have done something.
I thought he was dead, but he stood up to stare at us, to stare at me. He looked me in the eye for what felt like a life time, and he ran at me. I could move again but it was too late, all I could do was scream, scream like I never have before, as if it were my last breath. My father had gotten his gun without me noticing, he shot the hollow shell that had been a peron down. First in the arm but that didn’t even phase the creature, than in the head and he stayed down. The second shot was like a rope, pulling me back into reality. We grabbed a few things, canned food, water, clothes, my dads few guns, a cell phone and headed to our SUV. The radio said those, things, were everywhere. They were attacking people, eating them than turning into them. I didn’t know what this was, a disease or our worlds end but I planned to survive. There was a city that was letting uninfected people into it, they were low on supplies but it was secure. The guys on the radio referred to it as the Safe City, and that was our destination.
Everything seemed to change so suddenly, and so drasticly. It didn’t even feel real to me.
We drove for days on end, killing a few of those things on our way. We had a few scares, thinking we were going to die, turn into some mindless thing. I just wanted this to all end. I knew that once this was over, I’d be changed forever. I could see it happening to my family around me, everyone but my father and I had given up hope and reaching Safe City. I was determined. It was dawn, we should have reached the city days ago. I was worried about my mother, she needed normal, that city was our only chance to live and her only chance at sanity. We came over a hill and I felt an instant wave of relief over my entire body. It was like these past few weeks I was choking, that permanent noose around my neck had finally loosened. We pulled up to gates that were as tall as my house, they looked indestructible. It was the SafeCity, and it was on fire. My noose tightened again.
©HeyJude
Saturday, September 11, 2010
English Journal #3
Something that horrified my parents was my mind. From maybe 6th grade to my junior year in high school, I was a very different person. In the beginning it started as me just not caring much about anything, life, people, and classes. I was a bit dark, and I was sad. I’ve never been sure why I was so sad, because I had not a thing to be sad about. I was healthy; I had friends, a home, and both parents. I was depressed, and I began doing unforgivable things to myself. I tried many times to tell my parents how I felt, how I knew something was wrong with me. They saw how sad I was everyday, they even tried to cheer me up.
Though, I think subconsciously they knew what was happening, and they just didn’t want to accept what was wrong. I scared them. When I finally demanded help, real help, my mom simply asked “cant you just pretend to be happy? Then maybe it will happen.” . I know she met well, but those few words stuck with me. This situation that happened keeps me feeling guilty, its why I try so hard in everything I do now. I guess I see it as a “im sorry”, for scaring them.
This is something that was naturally forbidden to talk about. It was never said out loud, but we knew to never talk about it. I know its just something they want to forget, I feel like they worry now when im upset. They are afraid of what happened, but their not afraid to ask anymore.
Though they became more involved in me, they didn’t approve of everything. There were ways of life that were quietly out of the question. I consider them typical parental belief/rules, don’t do drugs, don’t drink, gay is not good, believe in god, go to church, go to school. So of course, I broke every one of those rules. I decided if i hadn’t tried it, maybe I should, and I did. And I told my parents about it, I didn’t lie because I had no reason to. I wanted to be open with them even if they didn’t like what they heard, and they respected me for that.
©HeyJude
Though, I think subconsciously they knew what was happening, and they just didn’t want to accept what was wrong. I scared them. When I finally demanded help, real help, my mom simply asked “cant you just pretend to be happy? Then maybe it will happen.” . I know she met well, but those few words stuck with me. This situation that happened keeps me feeling guilty, its why I try so hard in everything I do now. I guess I see it as a “im sorry”, for scaring them.
This is something that was naturally forbidden to talk about. It was never said out loud, but we knew to never talk about it. I know its just something they want to forget, I feel like they worry now when im upset. They are afraid of what happened, but their not afraid to ask anymore.
Though they became more involved in me, they didn’t approve of everything. There were ways of life that were quietly out of the question. I consider them typical parental belief/rules, don’t do drugs, don’t drink, gay is not good, believe in god, go to church, go to school. So of course, I broke every one of those rules. I decided if i hadn’t tried it, maybe I should, and I did. And I told my parents about it, I didn’t lie because I had no reason to. I wanted to be open with them even if they didn’t like what they heard, and they respected me for that.
©HeyJude
English Journal #2
A secret is something that tears you up inside, when you think about it you become nauseated, you feel dirty and you want to scream. I know that every person on this planet has a secret of their own. Many never tell a soul, but go over what happened in their head over and over again.
I have a secret; I’ve kept it for 14 years now. I’ve tried to console to people about it, tried to get it out of my mind, and sometimes I truly forget about it. I fear what will happen if I reveal my secret, what will that person think. I know now, now that im older its not my fault, but a piece of me will always feel that it is. Mainly, Ill always feel that way because I never told anyone, I should have. This secret is one that I would be relived to share, but I just cant yet. I’ve tried numerous times, but I still can’t. I’m just not ready to entirely admit what happen. I don’t know to whom I would be comfortable telling it to though, a stranger maybe. Someone I won’t have to see every day, I won’t have to look at them and wonder if their thinking about it.
Nothing will become of this secret once its let loose; no one can do anything about it. It has been too long, it’s the past and its unchangeable. I don’t even think I myself will feel better or relieved about it, I assume I would be, but I can easily be wrong. I think about this, and I cringe, if I can hardly think about it without breaking, how can I say it aloud to someone. Idealized secrets of your self are easier to tell, they don’t hurt to think about. Secrets that degrade you, the ones that haunt you when your alone, those are the hardest to tell.
©HeyJude
I have a secret; I’ve kept it for 14 years now. I’ve tried to console to people about it, tried to get it out of my mind, and sometimes I truly forget about it. I fear what will happen if I reveal my secret, what will that person think. I know now, now that im older its not my fault, but a piece of me will always feel that it is. Mainly, Ill always feel that way because I never told anyone, I should have. This secret is one that I would be relived to share, but I just cant yet. I’ve tried numerous times, but I still can’t. I’m just not ready to entirely admit what happen. I don’t know to whom I would be comfortable telling it to though, a stranger maybe. Someone I won’t have to see every day, I won’t have to look at them and wonder if their thinking about it.
Nothing will become of this secret once its let loose; no one can do anything about it. It has been too long, it’s the past and its unchangeable. I don’t even think I myself will feel better or relieved about it, I assume I would be, but I can easily be wrong. I think about this, and I cringe, if I can hardly think about it without breaking, how can I say it aloud to someone. Idealized secrets of your self are easier to tell, they don’t hurt to think about. Secrets that degrade you, the ones that haunt you when your alone, those are the hardest to tell.
©HeyJude
English Journal #1
In public, as in stranger public, im a very happy-go-lucky kind of person. Im laid back, open to most ideas floating around in the world. I try to make myself that way, I try to be open to everyone and their views on everything. I come off as a very friendly and caring person, one you can easily pen up to, fall in love with, im someone you want to know. I dish out my manners; because that’s what im taught to do, don’t be rude. With people I know well, im a bit more open, im sarcastic, loud, obnoxious, I say what is on my mind whether good or bad.
Im selfish because I feel it’s the only way to survive, im cold to strangers because it keeps you from getting hurt, this is my semi-public self. Or, that’s how I perceive it when I put myself in someone else’s place. I tend to like these roles, because a part of me is truly this way. Everyone is someone else in public, other wise everyone would be pissing each other off left and right. No one is completely their selves in public, but it’s a part of who they really are.
I have thought often that I am an actor in the crowd, an actor in life. There is a certain way everyone expects you to be, power figures, friends, parents and even strangers. I must be polite, be good, obey rules, succeed, be friendly, nice, and presentable. I must be myself all at the same time though.
In truth, I am uncaring to the world and myself, I am sarcastic, rude, funny, I make mistakes, sometimes I fail, I can be cold, sunny, warm, inviting, happy, and many more things. Everyone is an actor in public, because everyone is human and wants to be liked. Though maybe not liked by everyone, but by a select few. The one thing I consider myself best at, is acting, are we all not great actors? Are we all not great actors in this play of Life?
©HeyJude
Im selfish because I feel it’s the only way to survive, im cold to strangers because it keeps you from getting hurt, this is my semi-public self. Or, that’s how I perceive it when I put myself in someone else’s place. I tend to like these roles, because a part of me is truly this way. Everyone is someone else in public, other wise everyone would be pissing each other off left and right. No one is completely their selves in public, but it’s a part of who they really are.
I have thought often that I am an actor in the crowd, an actor in life. There is a certain way everyone expects you to be, power figures, friends, parents and even strangers. I must be polite, be good, obey rules, succeed, be friendly, nice, and presentable. I must be myself all at the same time though.
In truth, I am uncaring to the world and myself, I am sarcastic, rude, funny, I make mistakes, sometimes I fail, I can be cold, sunny, warm, inviting, happy, and many more things. Everyone is an actor in public, because everyone is human and wants to be liked. Though maybe not liked by everyone, but by a select few. The one thing I consider myself best at, is acting, are we all not great actors? Are we all not great actors in this play of Life?
©HeyJude
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