Fade Of The Undead

• Emma Rollinson, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2022

It was the last thing I heard. The only memory I have left. The only problem is it replays in my head for hours and hours on end with no break to even think. “It just never ends” I often find myself repeating as I curl up in a ball with tears rolling down my cheek, remembering the old days. I don’t want to lose the only memory I have left of reality, but it hasn’t stopped for weeks now, and I just want it to go away, to be silent.
The only time I find peace is the limited few hours of sleep I get of a night. Night is the most peaceful time, all that can be heard is the rush of the ocean crashing up against the eroded cliffside that my shack stands upon, the distant squeaks, squeals and squarks of the birds flying overhead to reach their nests to settle for the night. Further into land, you can hear the faint hoots of the owls as they are waking from their naps and all around you can hear the chirping of the cicadas and crickets as they prepare for a long night as song and dance.
These times are much simpler than what it was like at home. My mother was the average strict parent that everyone would complain about during high school. “Sam don’t do this", Sam you can’t do that", "No Sam, I’m not taking you there", "Sam if you’re going out who are you going with and can I have their parent’s number” but my dad, oh my dad he was a different level. “Sam is that skirt down past your knees", "Sam the back garden is not safe for a young lady like you", "Sam you are going to be home-schooled who knows what kind of people are out there”. He was crazy.
I’d given up on ever being let out of that stupid house until one day I was left home alone for the first time in 13 years 4 months 9 days and 11 hours. I had one dream and one dream only and that was to go to the library. I had my chance and that day, I took it. I arrived at the library without any trouble, I browsed the hundreds of shelves for hours until one book stood out to me.
This book looked nothing like an ordinary book and let me just say it didn’t contain the same power as one either. A normal book would entice you as you read it, this one, oh this one had a power I could never find the words to explain. The book chose me and forced me to follow its steps. That’s how I ended up here with just one memory. That one memory was the screech of my mother as she watched me fade away on the living room floor surrounded by candles, flower petals and THAT one book. "SAM, NOO! My girl, come back to me!"