I didn't have much else to say. How could I explain to him that watching these films was more a form of study and self-discovery than it was for enjoyment? I just rested my head on his knee and we watched the film until we fell asleep.
18 April 2014
I replied to the Facebook message today. I wasn't sure how much to say or what would be worth saying, so I just said "Yeah, I was there."
I didn't get a reply for another few hours. Then, about an hour ago, one came through. All it said was. "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry."
God, that's a lot to be sorry for.
19 April 2014
"I shouldn't have done it". Got that message earlier today. Then another, "It all happened so fast. It was only a second and I wasn't strong enough."
"What's your name?" I asked. I'm not sure why, but that mattered to me. I think it's because this person had done something to me. Changed me. The least he could do is to tell me what his name is.
"I'm Shane" he replied. Then he was quiet for a few minutes more.
"What did you do to me?" I asked.
It took him a while to reply. Then, finally, "I'm not sure. I don't really understand it myself."
That's great. I don't understand it either. I mean, shit, I only use the z-word to describe it because I can't think of any other that would fit. It could be some kind of disease, something this bastard passed on to me with his bite, a virus that could spread to anyone around me. I don't know, he doesn't know.
20 April 2014
Archer asked me why I've seemed so withdrawn for the last couple of days. He's right. This thing with the Florida guy has been playing on my mind. He asked what my plans are for the summer, but I don't really know yet. Knowing my family, they'll want us to go back to Florida. Frankly, that's the last thing I want to do.
I want to tell Archer what I am, I really do. But I know that he won't understand. Still, he should know. The truth is, it's dangerous for him not to know. I'm dangerous. It could only take a second of weakness, just a fraction of a moment when I could not hold back my instincts, and he could wind up as no better off than I am.
21 April 2014
I don't want to speak to Shane. I really can't stomach the idea. Every time I think about him, I feel a growing unease in my gut and I can barely manage to focus on whatever I'm doing. He hasn't sent me another message yet, but I feel as if he's just... there. A presence, standing to one side. Waiting for me to talk to him. I can't very well ignore him, can I?
But what should I say to him? Every moment that I start to think of something, the only words that come to my mind are a jumble of accusations and anger. He did this to me. He changed me. In just a few moments, he made my entire life into something unrecognisable. He hurt me and damaged me and used me. But he made me what I am.
Did he know that this would happen? He must have had some kind of sense of uncertainty to it when we met. Wasn't he afraid about the end result? It wasn't even a serious thing, just a quick bit of fun. I didn't even know his name. I guess that's all it takes, eh?
God, this is so screwed up.
22 April 2014
I swallowed my fear and got talking to Shane today. A really in-depth discussion. We talked for hours, and all the time I was able to keep calm. I didn't lose my temper once, I didn't blame him. Partly this was due to his apologies. He would apologise on an almost rhythmic basis, interspersed throughout our conversation. He was sorry that he didn't know more than I did, he was sorry not to have got in touch with me earlier, he was sorry he had got scared.
That, I guess, was the thing that bothered him the most. Shane had got scared when he bit me. I asked him how long he had been living with the whole 'condition', and was aghast when he told me. Two years. He's been one of us for two years.
I've just read that over. One of 'us'. As far as I know, he's the only other person in the entire world who's anything like me.
He 'caught' it from his grandmother. Shane told me that she had come home from a holiday. Somewhere in Africa, he said, he wasn't too sure where about. She was old at the time, but spent her retirement years taking any holiday trips that she could. She had returned home early from this one with a strong fever, and had almost collapsed as she got off the plane. I'd guess that Shane's family must have suspected that she wasn't going to pull through, because they had hurried to visit her in the hospital. That was where he was bitten. According to Shane, it was just a light scratch, while he was alone with her, standing at her bedside. She just reached out to kiss her grandson's hand, and her teeth bit into the back of his wrist. According to Shane, she didn't even realise what she was doing, and immediately looked up at him when he pulled back with shocked, confused eyes. She didn't know where she caught the fever. She'd not live long enough to find out.
Can our kind die? She did. At least, for a while she did. For all I know, she may have just slipped into a coma or something, I don't know. She was cremated, Shane told me. Burned up into ashes. I can't help but think about 'Return of the Living Dead', the zombie film set around a crematorium. Perhaps, if she had simply been buried, she'd have risen from her grave? Shit, why am I even thinking this kind of thing?
It was already getting late by the time we stopped talking. I realise that I feel a bit sorry for Shane. This guy doesn't understand any of this any more than I do. I can't shake the blame he has, or my sense of anger, but I know that there's more to him now. I just want to talk to him more. I'm angry with him, yeah, but I also feel... I don't know. Sorry for him, I guess.
23 April 2014
It happened today. Archer came to speak to me. He told me that he knew something has been on my mind. I can't disagree with that. He said that I've been very distant, and again that's entirely correct. I've been spending so much time thinking about Shane. About what I am. About what it means for me not to be alone any more.
Which, I admit, is a stupid idea - I'm not alone, I have Archer. Maybe. I don't want to lose him, which is what I'm afraid might happen if I continue to ignore him. But if I'm honest with him, open with him, tell him what I really am, I'm sure that he'd leave.
We agreed that tomorrow we will have a day out, just to ourselves, with nobody else. I don't know if I can tell him what I am, but I'll tell him something. I'll make it work. I'll make it right. At least, I hope it will.
24 April 2014
So, over a lunch at Subway, I said to Archer "I'm a zombie."
He stared at me for a few moments. "Are you now?" he asked me, expecting it to be a joke.
I nodded.
He watched me, trying to see any smile crossing my face. "Is this some kind of Twilight thing?" he asked me. I shook my head. He grinned. "You wouldn't rather be a werewolf or something?"
"I'm serious" I said.
He tilted his head forward. "Is this some kind of 'zombie as a metaphor of consumerist society' thing?" he asked.
I shook my head.
"You're awfully well preserved" he joked.
"It's make-up" I explained.
He nodded, "I noticed you like wearing it. So you wear it because you're all rotting underneath?"
"Not rotten," I said, "But getting there. Slowly."
Archer stared at me. "And you're not trying to eat my brains."
I motioned to my half-eaten sandwich. "I'm already full."
He took a sip from his drink. "Jay" he said, "You're weird."
"Is that why you like me?" I asked.
He leaned over and poked my upper arm. "That's why we're dating" he answered.
25 April 2014
My dad spoke to me today. We haven't really talked for a while, he's been spending a lot of his time watching American television shows on Netflix. We sat down together and watched a few episodes of American Horror Story together. This season was set in an asylum. My dad kept saying that if he doesn't find a job soon, he's going to wind up in one someday. I asked him if he's considered training to work in a mental hospital like the one on the show, but he said that he spends
enough time around crazy people.
26 April 2014
My mother told me that the police want me to give a statement about the incident with Mr Price turning up at our house. She got a call from them while I was out, and they would just like to get a written copy of what happened while I was there. I'm a little nervous about this, but she said that they will be happy for me to drop over at the station any time after school. I'll try to make some time to do that this week.
27 April 2014
Word around the dinner table tonight was of our summer holiday. I decidedly voted against Florida. My dad suggested that we do a large photography trip to Spain, which my mother over-ruled on account of that it's bloody boring and that we can't afford it. As she reminded us, if it weren't for the fact that we have family in Florida, we wouldn't be able to make it there every year anyway.
28 April 2014
I went along to the police station after school today. It wasn't far from the school, about two bus stops away, and it was still early by the time I got there.
The desk sergeant asked me to take a seat for a while. I waited for what felt like a half hour or so. I spent the time looking around the pale grey room, staring at the rubber plant that was sitting in the corner. They had definitely tried to dress the place up with that one miserable-looking plant.
Eventually one of the officers, Police Detective Stokes, came into the waiting room and called me. The guy was really, really tall and looked like he'd cut himself shaving a few times this morning, because his chin was extremely rough. He brought me into a room where we could talk in private. I told him exactly what had happened between Mr and Mrs Price, while he and one of his other officers wrote it down in shorthand. They then read it back to me, and asked if they had it right. I said that they had, and then told them about the text message that Mrs Price had received. The two men looked at each other and added it to the report.
29 April 2014
I spoke to Shane again tonight. He sent me a message earlier asking how I was holding up. He seems genuinely kind. I couldn't help myself, and before I knew it we were talking about everything. How we cope with the hunger. How we disguise ourselves among others. Then he told me. He said that he hopes that once I had got over what he did to me, that we could be friends.
I don't know. The first thing he did to me was betray me. Well, okay, he kissed me first, but then he immediately betrayed me. He knew the risk of what he was doing, and now he wants me to forgive him and make friends? It's crazy. But he's the only one who really understands how I feel. Even Archer, who I care for more than anyone else, just doesn't - can't - understand it.
30 April 2014
So, I've decided what I'm going to do. I've made a decision. It's the only way I'm going to have someone who will understand me, and who will stay with me.
I'm going to bite Archer.
May
1 May 2014
I watched Archer playing basketball. He moves so smoothly, with such restrained energy. I found my mind thinking about how it would influence him once he had been bitten. Zombies in movies tend to be either very sluggish and stiff, or very fast and quick. Walkers and runners.
Which am I? I'm not sure. It's too early for me to tell for sure, yet. I don't think I'll know unless the hunger takes over and my muscles start to decay.
Is it right to do this? To bite him, I mean. At this stage I'm really not sure. If vampires existed, I think it'd be easier to be one of those. When they turn someone, they can pass it off as a gift of eternity. Is that what I'm going to be giving to Archer? I don't know. It would certainly be a more romantic gift than a lasting urge to devour raw meat and worry about decaying.
I keep reminding myself that I'm not doing a bad thing. I'm helping him. We'll be closer afterwards. We'll be together, really truly together. So why do I feel as if I'm planning to do something really bad?
2 May 2014
During lunch break today I read a few pages of The Mammoth Anthology Of Zombie Horror Stories. CC gave me a sneer and said that the zombie genre has been diluted to the point of being passé. I told her that I thought there was still some life in it, but she said that it was all over when they started turning zombies into cuddly toys. Then she asked if I wanted to join her Dungeons and Dragons group. I have the weirdest friends.
3 May 2014
I've spent the last four hours on the internet. Aside from a few really skeezy romance and 'erotica' books, there is nothing in contemporary literature concerning zombies possessing anything more than basic rudimentary intelligence. Nothing provides any real in-depth thought onto their internal thought processes or shines any light into what might happen if things go wrong... if Archer doesn't turn out like me and Shane. This is a risk, a real cross-my-heart hope-that-it-works kind of a thing. I don't want my partner to turn into a monster.
A monster like me.
And seriously, what the hell is up with these zombie erotica books? Do people actually read this shit, or do cynical money-hungry authors just scrawl this rubbish down?
4 May 2014
I asked Archer "How would you feel about being different?"
We were walking down the street at the time, sipping from Shakeaway cups and trying to enjoy the sun. It was bright, but still the temperature was still a little chilly. Archer smiled at me, "You mean if I were gay?" he asked in an exaggerated way, shaking his hands in mock terror.
I shrugged, "Something like that, I suppose." I suddenly felt that I wanted to change the subject, shift the focus to anything else.
Archer looked at me. "You're not thinking of joining one of those gay conversion groups, are you?" he asked.
I wasn't sure if he was joking or not.
5 May 2014
I asked Archer to come over tonight. We had pizza, and played Halo until it was late. I wanted to raise the subject again, but I just can't think how to do it. What am I supposed to say? "Hey, do you want to get bitten and infected by the zombie plague?" Maybe I could just tell him that I'm a vampire and make it sound more romantic. He'd only be a newly-turned zombie, maybe he won't know the difference?
6 May 2014
Okay, so it's Tuesday today. Friday is my deadline. I've asked Archer if he would like to go to the cinema to see the new Captain America film.
My English teacher moaned at me today because I wasn't paying attention. I almost stood up and told him that I'm not paying attention because he has nothing interesting or significant to say. Besides, I was busy sketching in my notebook, and his criticisms are harming my artistic spirit.
7 May 2014
Over dinner tonight, my dad made an announcement. After so long trying to find employment, he has decided to set up his own plumbing company. My mother said that it sounded like a nice hobby for him. He immediately said that it wasn't a hobby, it was a career. Before long, an icy silence had descended between the two. I told them that this kind of arguing makes me wonder just how I've been able to develop into the charming, socially comfortable and well-adjusted young man I am today.
After dinner I went over to CC's for Dungeons and Dragons. The group consisted of myself, CC, Archer, Rupert from biology class, and some guy CC knows from her book club. I rolled up an elf who wears a mask made of other people's faces. When I got home, dad asked me what I did, and when I mentioned that bit he said "Well-adjusted? Why do I get the feeling that I'm going to see you on Crimewatch one of these days."
8 May 2014
In maths class today, our teacher mentioned that the Eurovision Song Contest was this weekend. I'm not even sure how the conversation got to that point, it had something to do with the metric system.
9 May 2014
Tonight was to be the night.
After school I met up with Archer and we made the trek into town, walking rather than taking the bus. I needed the time to mentally prepare myself. He smiled to me, and would occasionally slip his hand into mine as we walked. We talked, and I told him how much I'd really love to get a nice leather jacket
for my birthday. It felt like empty conversation, discussions about nothing, but it was nice nonetheless.
When we got to the cinema it was pretty quiet, because the film had already been showing for a few weeks. We hid a large bag of Jelly Babies in my backpack and slipped it past the staff, knowing that buying anything at the snack bar would cost an arm and a leg.
The plan was simple. I had intended to wait until after the film, and then talk to Archer. Explain what I was, answer his questions, then gently go for the bite.
Halfway through the film, though, I changed my mind. It wouldn't work, not like that, not like I'd planned out. If I wanted to do this, I'd have to bite him without warning. He'd never agree to it, not until afterwards. I'd do it quickly, and then explain it to him, and he'd understand and everything would be okay. I leaned closer to him, close against his cheek, and I could feel the warmth in his skin and smell the blood in his veins. It'd be just a quick bite, I thought, so quick.
Then he kissed me.
He kissed me and I realised that I couldn't do it. What the hell was I even thinking in the first place? I didn't know for sure that the whole zombie thing isn't down to a virus. So what would that have made me? No better than someone who knowingly infects his partners with HIV, like you hear about in the news? I'd been telling myself that it would bring us closer, make him be able to understand me. But he already does understand me.
10 May 2014
Dad has had a whole bunch of new things printed for his plumbing business. He's been showing off his business cards and leaflets, and has even had a t-shirt made which has his company name on the breast. Now the hallway is full of boxes full of all this crap. He said that there's nowhere else to store it. I tripped over it three times already this evening.
Diary of a Gay Teenage Zombie Page 7
