Zombie

• Sol Nunes, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2010

Hello my name is Stan Jackson and I am dead. Well technically I’m not completely dead, see I came back to life. As you might imagine dying and coming back to life was a very weird experience. One day I’m crossing the street, then 4 tonnes of Bus speeding along at 80km thumps me in to what was supposed to be an eternal life up in the clouds. But no. 24 hours after my accident I wake up in pitch black darkness in a very small narrow claustrophobic box.
After a moment of intense panicking I realised that the metal container I was in had little rays of light coming through cracks at the bottom of my feet and I soon realized I was in a morgue. A sense of calm washed over me as I apprehended my new situation but it was short lived has I heard a muffled voice outside my little box. How was I able to get out of this one I couldn’t just bound of the autopsy table and walk straight out the door without exposing me as a zombie. So I decided to play dead which was very easy since I practically was. And soon enough I was dragged out into the middle of a strange room with a stranger in a white lab coat staring down at me. “Stan Jackson, 21, Male, Cause of Death, a massive blunt trauma force delivered to the body” explained the coroner to himself. After reading thorough some files he picked up an electrical saw turned it on and started bringing it down to the top of my chest. I was now in a blind panic and was about to scream when the man’s pager beeped, he put down the saw and walked out of the room mumbling something about lunch. When the coast was clear I jumped of the table and bounded down the hallway grabbing my clothes as I went and crashing out the exit.
When I was safely away I took a moment to check myself out and weigh the pros and cons of being a walking corpse. The problems where that I was supposed to be dead so I couldn’t just go walking around the street without inflicting panic. Also since I had no working organs my body I would soon be decomposing in to a pile of rotting meat that meant that I had to find somewhere that would slow the process down. Before long I had smuggled my way into a shipping crate of bananas to Alaska and soon finally arrived at my destination.
I think I have adjusted to be a zombie very well. I’ve had to start wearing 3 or 4 car air-fresheners to hide the smell and even though the decomposition process as slowed down some small body parts like fingers and toes are falling off, but some super-glue usually fixes that. All in all my Eternal life as a zombie so far is a great one.