My Life as a Zombie
I started off normal like you, I guess really every zombie starts out alive (most of them) and normal until they get bit, scratched, spit on, or the good old tearing of the flesh with our gross infected fingernails. Your probably wondering how it all started, how I got infected, and how is a zombie writing a book? My story isn't a traditional one, I was chased down the streets by twenty zombies making my last stand pulling out dual pistols taking out all but one who eventually got me. Nope. My story isn't heroic either, I didn't risk my life to save my family so they could escape to a lifting off helicopter. Nope. My story is funny to everyone else but me, the infection started with a few people who ate some bad human flavored tofu (kind of is asking for it, if you make human flavored tofu) at some new healthy Japanese type restaurant. The people who ate the tofu were taken to the hospital and were treated and turned out fine, until they got home.
When the ten or so got home it turned out that the air in the city had mixed badly with the infection which then caused them to crave more tofu, unfortunately they craved the flavoring which happened to be human. The thought of eating humans corrupted their brains so much they had to eat humans but only if they were alive.
With my luck, one of those infected tofu aficionados happened to be one of my neighbors, who happened to begin to start craving humans on a night that I came home and left my door wide open listening to a new local band's loud rock music. So while he slowly walked down the hallway towards the first human his new human craving sense needed which happened to be me, I was getting ready to go to bed. I got into bed all snug and everything and fell asleep. Now I was asleep when he moved through my apartment but I imagine he wasn't very quiet and if I hadn't been so tired and used to the noise of the city that never sleeps I might of woken up before the next events that are to occur.
When I did awake, the infected, whose name was Bill when he was alive, stumbled around my living room tripping over everything as he slowly crept towards my room. Now if I was so conscious about my safety I probably wouldn't of left my bed room door wide open as well letting Bill slowly creep towards me lying in my bed. As reached the end of my bed, he crept towards the side of me and finally starting eating me, and I still didn't. He eventually had done enough damage with his vicious clawing and gnawing that I was dead, which caused him to move on. Minutes later I woke up with the most unbearable crave to eat a human; I had officially been one of the only people who was turned into a zombie in his sleep without knowing it. Yea laugh it up but hey in my defense he caught me on a bad night.
You're still probably wondering how I'm able to remember all this, and be able to write about it. I don't really know why I can remember all this and right about because from what I had learned about zombies all I should want to do is eat the living but for some reason I'm able to do both. I always have a desire or crave if you like to eat the living but I also am able to keep most of my higher brain functions at different times. Now like I said I always want to eat the living but yet I'm able to observe and "think" about what's going on and be able to write about it.
I started writing about my new "life" as a zombie about a week after becoming a zombie. In this week we were able to cause utter chaos and have the world over run with the walking dead, accomplishing this in a week isn't that bad if I do say so myself. In that first week I can tell you that I ate all the time seeing how their wasn't a whole lot of competition. I guess you could mark that as a good thing about being one of the first zombies was that food started off abundant especially In New York City. I walked around with my stomach contents spilling out of me because if you remember that's where Bill decided to "operate" with his mouth which I feel is one of the other reasons I'm always hungry because nothing I eat stays in my stomach. I walked down the streets eating anyone who was dumb enough to be caught by the worlds slowest predator. Eventually humanity caught on and realized we don't walk very fast so they were able to escape from us. So we came up with the chase around the corner into a horde of zombies. This method worked for a long time and is still implemented by many zombie groups.
I was always a picky eater and apparently just because I'm a walking corpse so you can imagine that even with the beginning abundance of food I still found myself eating people who seemed to be in better shape, mainly meaning I don't eat fat guys unless I have to. I would rather choose the faster young jogger to chase for an hour rather than the easy Twinkie eating fat guy who bumped into me. Luckily though my zombie mentality has started to take over and got rid of most of my pickiness now I eat fat guys too, still not keen on Russians and Indians (apparently zombies are natually racist).