It's ten in the morning and I'm already dressed. I think to myself Man, I'm on top of it today! As I am making a PB&J sandwich, I look for the green dinosaur cut out for the bread pieces. Then it happens, the dreading sound of my father walking down the old, creaky wooden steps. I know he is going to complain about me, as usual.
"Billy, why can't you be a fucking normal twenty-seven year old and have a damn job while not acting like a six year old!" said my father, as he was tucking in his iron pressed plaid shirt. "It's a damn dinosaur, for christs sake."
As usual, I just ignore him and roll my eyes. My father is a complete prick. All he does is complain, always saying You need to get a job if you want to move out and take up the family job as a car salesman and not fall flat on your face. He never takes into consideration I don't want to do shit with cars. I must've accidentally said it outloud because he scoffs at me. Something he does when he doesn't agree with what I say or do.
"Son, sit at the table for a minute. I need to talk to you"
My face goes pale and blank, but I try playing it cool, like I've done nothing wrong. Oh no. Shit. I haven't done anything in the past week to piss him off too bad. Have I? I sit at the chair farthest from him.
"Billy," he says as he is sighing. "I'm sending you to your aunt Mae's for awhile. You're getting out of hand and you need to grow up," my father won't make eye contact. He starts picking at a crack in the table.
"You can't send me away. I'm an adult, you have no control over me!" I yell, staring at my father, knowing he won't look at me. He never does.
Then he quickly looks up and gives me the look of You better shut up or I'm going to kill you. I get up and start packing my things. I didn't need to ask how long I would be at aunt Mae's; he is going on a business trip to Maine in a week for three months. He doesn't trust me alone with the house. Or at all, that's the only thing I could think of, my own father not trusting me."Dammit." that's all I could manage to whisper to myself. I walk downstairs into the kitchen with my bags, when there's a car waiting for me in the driveway. I guess he really couldn't wait for me to leave, huh? I sigh, and go put my bags in the trunk.
He doesn't even come outside to say goodbye to me. Figures. My "chauffeur" and I set off for a seventeen hour car ride at 1 in the afternoon. I gave the driver the nickname Tight-Lips because he wouldn't say a single word to me. The only conversations we had were about needing to stop to eat, stretch, or any bathroom breaks. It was crucial. I counted, I only said fifty-seven words the entire seventeen hour car ride. It was six-thirtyseven in the morning and I am awoken by the car screeching to a halt on a gravel driveway, and Tight-Lip growling "We're here,".
Aunt Mae was sitting on the little wooden swing on her front porch, that's been there for years. As I am getting out of the car, I slightly stumble from sitting so long. My left foot has fallen asleep, Wake up, you lazy bastard. "Aunt Mae, I haven't seen you in ages!" I shout from the driveway.
"No need to shout dear, I can hear your loud mouth from here. Now get your ass inside, it's a little nippy this mornin',"
I grab my bags and I watch Tight-Lips drive off. Guess he wasn't going to waste any time getting back home. I walk inside, and to my surprise, it's very clean. Rocco, the dog who is older than dirt, whom I believe walked next to Moses and Christ themselves, will never seem to die. There's already food on the table for lunch, quiche with bacon, sausage and cheese, my favorite as a kid. Looks like she does remember a little somethin' somethin' about me I noted to myself.
After we had lunch, which was an awkward Q&A session, I put my shit in my new room for the next several months. Good thing aunt Mae loves watching TV for hours on end. We'll get along just fine. I love being the lazy ass that I am today, even if my asshole of a father doesn't.
The first week and a half went by quickly, we just sat around and talked about how our lives have changed ever since my mother went a bit crazy. She's in the Loony bin now. But that is a whole different story.
It was when I was outside talking with a few new friends while aunt Mae was on the porch, that I realized what was happening. It all added together, the progressive smell of rot, and the light fog all over town. It was the apocalypse. About four weeks ago, I read a comic from my childhood, The Upbringing of Zombies, third edition. I shove aunt Mae inside and tell her what's going on, as usual, I get called a dumb ass. When all of a sudden, Joey, a new friend who lives down the road, points out a guy who is slugging along aunt Mae's driveway, which is longer than the damn Eiffel Tower.
I run up to my room and grab my gun that I packed just in case. "Thank god I brought this along" I quietly muttered to myself as I ran down the stairs, going back to aunt Mae in the kitchen.
"William!" aunt Mae shouts so loud that I nearly shit my pants. I see how mortified she is as she looks at my gun. I just shake her off, trying not to get distracted.
For the past hour and a half, aunt Mae and I go over how to dismantle, put it back together, and how to shoot the gun. Good thing I ran with "the wrong crowd" back in high school.
Within two hours, the whole town was flooded with zombies of all shapes, sizes, and ages. All we had to do was shoot them in the head. With one gun. This is going to be hell. I tell aunt Mae to go wait in the living room while I try to shoot all of the zombies off of the driveway so we can try to make a run for the car. Once I get enough away from the car and the house, we get inside and lock the doors. The key is in the ignition, but it won't start. "Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck!" I shout as I pound on the dashboard. "Just my luck. A zombie apocalypse bursts out, we have one gun, and the damn car won't even start! What else can go wrong?" I let out a frustrated sigh and close my eyes and run my hand through my shaggy hair to help me think.
The sound of a zombie jumping onto the side of the car trying to get to aunt Mae and I, jolts me back to reality. This is really happening I think as I watch the Zombies back away from the car. "We better get out of the car before we end up getting stuck inside. Let's go back, aunt Mae,". Aunt Mae nods and takes a deep breath, when I noticed she's been holding her breath for awhile now. We make a break for it.
Halfway back to the house, a zombie, who looks like he would've been about 35-40 years old, when he was alive that is, latches onto aunt Mae. I shoot him, but not quick enough. She had already been bit multiple times when she closes her eyes and tears roll down her cheeks, she says, "Billy, go. It's too late for me, but it isn't too late for you." I just stand there, I can't let her go. "GO!" aunt Mae screams at me.
I run back into the house, I lock all the doors and windows. I close the shades and curtains, knowing it won't do me any good. I sit on the floor, with my back against the wall and my head between my knees. I feel empty inside. All I can think of is that I just left aunt Mae for dead. Hell, we could've cut off her arms to stop the spreading. Anything to keep her alive.
Weeks pass and I am still safe inside the house. I ration my food, not knowing when I would be able to get food again. Good thing aunt Mae liked to stock up on food, or I would have starved long ago.
I look outside, and I instantly freeze. It's like the whole world stops when I see him. My father is standing outside the fence I created to keep the zombies away. I drop the glass and it shatters on the floor. "This can't be real. Everyone who I care about, gone. A zombie," I let out a slight laugh and run my hand down my face. "Get a grip, Billy."
I look outside to see if he is still there, when all I see is a green dust like substance coming out of planes, and all the zombies start to disintegrate. All of the zombies are gone, turned to ash by the touch of dust. Then my whole world goes blank.
I wake up at my house, in my own bed. I laugh out loud, thinking it was only a dream, until I look out of my window, and see everyone in the neighborhood in my yard, all of the zombies, staring right at me.