Zombies Ain't The Best Roommates

by Em

Out, out, damn Zombie! I shrieked as the monster who used to be Joel trundled toward me.  His forehead oozed green goo.  I wondered from whence in the human body that verdant slime originated.  The face that formerly held both of Joel’s eyes stared at me blankly.

“Joel, we talked about this.  If we’re going to share this apartment, I need to have some space without you intruding all the time.”  As my zombie roommate trod off to our small living room to watch “Shaun of the Dead” (no doubt to pick up some pointers), I realized how hard this living arrangement would be. 

After all, ever since Joel had become a zombie, the pus from his body and dead skin were creating a mess around the apartment.  He had stopped showering and he was beginning to annoy me with his late night moaning and attempts to break into my room and eat my brain.   How many times had I changed the locks lately?

While walking to the bus stop together one morning, Joel was lagging behind.  His had a slow drag to his step these days and we had missed the bus a few times because of his staggering behind.  This morning we left early to be sure we arrived at the bus stop in time. 

When I turned to look behind me, Joel and five other zombie-types had gathered at a nearby stoop and appeared to be ogling me.  I suddenly felt vulnerable.  In fact, I kept a police baton in my bag (don’t ask!) for moments like these.  I remembered from my Zombie Defense Class that zombies are often more frightened of us than we are of them.  They usually only become interested in you if you’re moving away from them.

With that, I walked toward the group in an attempt to convince Joel to follow me to the bus stop.  Boy was that the wrong move!  The moment I tugged on Joel’s tattered brown jacket, chaos ensued.  All eyes were on me and suddenly all hands were coming toward me.  Even Joel sensed the excitement as his remaining brown eye stared into me and focused on my skull. 

As I turned to run, one of the possibly male zombies grabbed my arm.   His teeth came towards my flesh but  missed me as I kicked him in his non-existent groin.  Two possibly female zombies knocked me over and grabbed me by the hair.  I managed to push them away somehow.  As I stood again to run, Joel reached out for me, his mouth watering.  He had me in his clutches when, at that moment, the 7:10 bus to downtown Greensboro plowed right into him.  I’ve never heard a sound with more crunching noises and moaning!  As the bus passed and kept on going (thanks a lot!), I looked across the street to see the remains of Joel splattered all over the pavement.  Even his Doctor Who scarf had been crushed, though his eye was nowhere to be found. 

When the other zombies saw this, they each scuffled off in search of other brains to devour.  Maybe they each needed some comfort for awhile, or perhaps an easier target for dinner.  Whatever the reason, I never forgot Joel. I still get nostalgic when I see the 7:10 bus to downtown Greensboro run over other zombies that have recently taken to chasing me at the bus stop.  Even now, as I try to outrun yet another zombie, I get that warm fuzzy feeling inside.  I jump quickly to the other side of the road when I hear behind me---THUD!   Ah, memories.