Chapter 8: Dib, the Amazing Human Burrito!
*Note from the author: This chapter is dedicated to a few special people. Inu chan 339 author of Invader Zim Ect2-After shock and Bat13SJx author of ZAGR and ZAGR Forever (probably the only ZAGR that isn't cheesy) for inspiring me to become a fan fiction writer. If you haven't read any of these two girls works YOU HAVE TO READ THEM! Their pieces are amazing. They suck you right in and jiggle you around in a bottle of awesome sauce. Also Alice-Chan422, Darkinvader897, .and. .GOODBYE, Mii-riam and the few others who read my story. Thanks you so much. Keep reading my story m'kay or ima gonna have to do horrible things to you with salad tongs…I'm serious. K *
Dib wiped the snot on his black sleeve, burying his head in his pillow again. Ugh, he couldn't stop thinking about that day. It was as if his brain was stuck on repeat. The empty eyes, its bad breath, and the constant pounding of its fist against the door. He shuddered pulling the covers over him some more. It wasn't like he was trying to create an unstoppable monster. The voodoo book clearly stated that herbal zombies were benevolent. Maybe zombies made from the living couldn't be controlled? He didn't know. He rolled over onto his back.
Think of…think of something else, he thought to himself, Frogs… hamburgers….waffles…. puppies-NO! He groaned pulling the grey pillow over his head angrily. He felt himself slip into his memories for the 3rd time. Stupid brain. Why are you doing this to me?
He hopped over the fence landing near their neighbors Chihuahua. The cute tawny Chihuahua gave a few short yaps before bounding over to the little 8-year-old Dib. Dib stooped down and picked up the puppy, holding it in front of him. The little Chihuahua squirmed in his grip, straining forward trying to lick his face. His younger self chuckled, "No, No Mr. Pickles. Hee-hee, you can lick me afterwards." He hugged the little ball of fur close to his chest. Lil'Dib shuffled towards the wood gate, hopping up and down trying to flip open the latch.
"No, no, why won't the old bag look out the window. Stop It.", Dib begged silently with the his younger self. Dib felt his hands grip the pillow tighter. He pushed his face farther into the cotton fabric. "Put the dog back. You don't know what your doing."
Lil'Dib continued to hop up and down before switching to holding the Chihuahua under his arm like a book and hopped up one more time. His middle finger succeeded in popping the little hook out of the latch, and without hesitation he pushed gate open. Among the green summer grass were various jars pots and children books. A circle salt had been made in the center of the yard. The bright sunshine made the white salt glow softly. Lil'Dib skipped over and sat the dog down in the middle of the circle. Mr. Pickles rolled around on the grass belly exposed for a tummy rub.
"Not yet, Pickles, you silly dog." Lil'Dib laughed, leaning over giving the doggie a short scratch before picking up a heavy book lying on the ground. "I'm doing this for you, okay? So stay."
"It was an accident!", his voice muffled through the pillow. He was smart back then but still stupid enough to NOT read the signs. He turned letting the pillow fall of the edge of the bed. He swaddled himself in the his blankets. "I should've left the book where I found it."
He brushed off some of the dust from the cover. The ancient book was made of tanned animal hide of some kind bound with leather and sealed with a bone. Strange symbols looked like they had been burned into the hide to form what must, he had assumed, be words. He ran his finger over the cover, enjoying the feeling of the divots from the burns and prickly fur against his stubby fingers. He grinned down at the mysterious book. The large blue eye on the cover stared back. He undid the canine clasp and flipped through to a book marked page. "Lets make some magick!"
He didn't even fully understand what a zombie was.
Dib kneeled next to the circle picking up jars and tossing them aside before picking up two small baby jars full of powder. He set the two jars over to the circle, he grabbed the butter knife he had smuggled out of the kitchen out of his pocket and set it down on the grass. Mr. Pickles sniffed both jars before losing all interest and went back to chasing his tail. He read aloud, "'The West Africans were master chemists especially in the use of herbs and poisons. To make a nbzambie or zombie, as they are called in today's society, chemically it is first necessary to cause the victim to appear to die, then to apply an antidote to revive them.' Well that seems weird, but okay."
That was probably the first sign that something was wrong.
"The basic poison comes from the common blowfish. Dyed and powdered, it is a nerve poison. It is applied mainly in one's shoes, surrep…surreptitiously, and absorbed through the sweet glands in the feet." Dib opened one of the glass jars, cracking off the lid. He read aloud as he began to scrape the powder onto the knife. "The blowfish poison inhibits the natural conductivity of the nervous system and causes the to atrophy and otherwise appear decreased".
He didn't even know what most of those words meant! What was he thinking?
"This phase completes he deception of death. Come' mere Mr. Pickles. " Mr. Pickles bounded up to him and sat in front of him. Dib picked up Pickles paws and spread the powdered poison on them like butter. The little Chihuahua twitched anxiously from side to side, his tail waving quickly back and forth. Suddenly the little Chihuahua shuddered. Dib leaned forward in apprehension. Mr. Pickle's knees suddenly buckled, and the little puppy collapsed into the green grass.
It was suddenly harder to swallow.
"In the second phase the antidote, a paste from the seedpod of the angle's trumpet flower is applied. The seedpod contains two types of active ingredients. The first is atropine, which counteracts the nerve poisoning. The second is a hallucinogenic that causes both amnesia and disorientation…what's a hallucinogenic? Hmm." , Dib opened the other baby jar. He had to save Mr. Pickles. "The final result is a person who appeared to have died, appears to have been resurrected and is now mentally incoherent, but physically functional." Dib spread the antidote on Mr. Pickles paws. "Pickles?" Lil'Dib poked the unresponsive pile of fur. The grass within the circle started to whither and burn. Dib got up and backed away from the salt border.
"OH MY SWEET BABY NOODLES! MR. PICKLES!"
"What?" Lil'Dib looked up to see his elderly neighbor lady push him aside and scoop up her precious pooch. Mrs. Gravelli began to cradle the dog in her arms rocking it back and forth. She glared down at Dib.
"What the HELL did you do you little-OW!" She screamed dropping Mr. Pickles. Dib could see small bite marks from where the dog had bit her. Mr. Pickle's mouth was frothing when he sprang out of her arms and ran into the next-door neighbors yard, growling at nothing in particular. Dib looked up into the angry old lady. She leaned towards him pointing a bony finger in his face. "I know you had something to do with this. You tried to kill my droog!"
Sign number two, the old lady starts to drool uncontrollably.
Lil' Dib rushed back. Mrs. Gravelli had begun to choke on her own drool. She closed her hands around her throat, collapsing onto the grass. She hacked until little drops of scarlet fell from her pink lips and began to stain her yellow polka dot dress. Her hands suddenly relinquished their grip on her throat and began to tear viciously at her gray hair, ripping large clumps from her scalp. The little 8 year old ran for the back door.
"Gazzy, open the door!" Dib squeaked, pounding as hard as he could on the oak door. He jiggled the doorknob furiously
"Leave me alone!" his six year old sister yelled from somewhere inside.
"Gazzy, you don't understand! Something's wrong with Mrs. Gravelli." Dib begged with his twin on the other side. "She's ugly! She's drooling from the side of her mouth and making no sense words and stuff!"
"What else is new?" her voice sounded farther away.
"Gazzy!"
" Find a way in yourself." Gaz snapped.
"What? Why?"
"You used the last black crayon on your stupid Dracula picture!" she screamed.
Dib froze as he heard a feral growl behind him. Mrs. Gravelli's eyes had rolled into the back of her head and was starting to crawl slowly towards him. Dib panicked and banged on the door louder. He heard nothing from inside. He turned and saw the zombie dragging herself moving a little closer every second. Dib looked at the doggie door installed for whenever Mr. Pickles came to visit. Dib groaned and shoved his head through the door. He saw Gaz in a little pink jumper drinking a glass of milk with cookies at the kitchen table. "Gazette, you open the door right now or else-"
"Or else what?" Gazzy raised an eyebrow.
"Or else I'll tell Dad what really happened to the TV.", Dib threatened.
"You wouldn't dare." Gaz glared angrily at him.
"I fear death more than you at the moment. Unlock door!" his voice sounded hysterical. He was hysterical.
"Grrrrr…you know annoying me means death." Gazzy hopped off the kitchen chair sipping her milk all the way the door. Dib felt a wave of gratitude wash over him before freezing as Gazzy just stood there waiting expectantly. Dib waited giving his little sister an impatient stare. The zombie must be close by now. Gazzy sipped some more of her milk. When she realized Dib was still there she stated quite impatiently, "I can't open the door with your head in it."
He remembered feeling his face flush. He wiggled his side to side before popping his head out the little doggie door, looking over his shoulder. He had been right about the zombie thing. The zombie was less then 5 feet from him. Dib twisted the knob and whirled inside locking the door behind him. He leaned against the grey door, panting. Gazzy walked back to the kitchen table and continued eating her cookies. "Gazzy," he whispered "we need to get upstairs… now."
"What're you whispering for?" Gazzy asked.
"Look, I think I may have accidently created a zombie out of Mrs. Gravelli, okay. So come upstairs with me." Dib said in exasperation. He grabbed his sisters' hand and began tugging her upstairs. She protested of course but it's hard to take someone serious if they have a milk mustache on their face. Her little fists began to hit him mercilessly. He managed to drag her to the stairs before he heard it. Gazzy froze in mid swing. A slow but never faltering sound of hand smacking against wood.
Dib put his hands on his ears. He wasn't there, he told himself over and over, that was then, this is now. Twisting in the blankets, he tried futilely to silence the pounding reverberating inside his mind.
Lil' Dib pulled Gazzy up towards his room. They were halfway up the stairs when Gazzy broke his grip and raced into the narrow hallway. He was just able to make it up the stairs in time to see Gazzy pick up the home phone and begin to dial.
"GAZ WE CAN ORDER PIZZA LATER! Although it would be a good distraction." Dib paused thoughtfully considering they were about to get eaten alive.
"I'm calling Dad." Gaz corrected. She rolled her eyes at him tapping her little foot impatiently. She paused looking Dib straight in the eye.
"Oh…yeah…that's good too." Dib nervously shifted side to side. He wanted to talk to Dad too. "Gazzy put it on speakerphone would ya." Gaz pushed a little button on the phone and set back into the base. Both of them waited while the silver phone rang. There was a sharp click on the other end.
"This is Jimmy, Professor Membranes personal intern. Please state why you want to bother the most important man on the face of the earth apparently." A bitter male voice muttered into the phone. Dib and Gazzy looked at each other.
"Uh this is Dib and Gazette." Dib stated uneasily to the phone. "We need to speak to Dad. IT'S AN EMERGENCY!"
There was a long pause from the intern before he spoke again. "Riiight well kiddies I'll tell your Daddy you called and said hello m'kay?"
"Intern who're you talking to?" a smaller voice in the background inquired.
"DAD!...HELP!...IWASTRYINGSOMETHINGFROMTHISB OOKIFOUNDONTHEBUSFLOORONOURDOGA NDTHENTHEDOGDIEDANDITCAMEBACKTOLIFEANDTHENANDSHESTARTEDHACKINGBLOODANDSHE'SGOTTHISHORRIBLEDROOLTHINGTHATSLOOKSLIKEASAINTBENARDMI XEDWITHATHINGTHATDROOLSALOTA NDSHESTARTEDCOMINGATMEANDGAZETTEWOULDN'TOPENTHEDOORANDLETMEINSOIHAD TOSTICKMYHEADINTHROUGHTHEDOGGI EDOORANDBEGGAZTOLETMEINANDMYHEADGOTSTUCKANDNOWWE'REGONNAGETEAT'INBYAZOMBIENEIGHBORLADYHELP!" Dib paused trying to catch his breath from all the talking he just did. Gaz just stood staring at her brother with raised eyebrows. It was silent on the phone for a long time. He could hear his Dad arguing with "Jimmy" in the lab. Suddenly a third voice interjected and the arguing stopped. The was the sound of a door slamming followed by an angry growl.
"There are you happy now? You've created more work for me to do. I deserve to have a social life too you know?!" Jimmy snapped.
"We didn't want to-" Gazzy tried to put a word in but he hung up before she could finish. She looked over at her brother and gave a small shrug. Suddenly the pounding seemed to get louder followed by the sound of glass cracking. Dib let out a small eep before sprinting down the hall into his room. He looked over his shoulder to see Gazzy walking steadily behind him. As soon as Gaz put her foot out of the doorway, he slammed the door and bolted it. The two children backed away from the door. Dibs head whipped back and forth scanning around the navy blue room looking for something that could be used as a weapon. Bookshelves held random storybooks and toys. His bed was pressed against the side of the wall near the window. A bolt of inspiration hit him. He dove under the bed pushing aside numerous dust bunnies and papers. He pulled out a baseball bat and tossed it to his sister. Gaz caught it and began to dig around his room looking for something else to defend them with.
There was a sickening crash from downstairs followed by the gurgle of blood and drool. Dib jumped up and ran to his sister. She had ripped the small lamp from the bedside table and tossed it to him. His hands slipped and the lamp shattered against the grey carpet. Dib flinched. He held his breath looking both from Gaz to the lamp. Gaz was shaking, from rage or fear he didn't know.
"Dib," her little voice muttered "What the heck did you do?!"
"It was an accident." Dib said giving an indignant shrug. He crossed his arms scowling. "Great Gazzy, now I'm going to die angry. Thanks a lot."
"You're welcome." Gaz said dismally, mimicking Dib's angry pose. A large high-pitched roar echoed from downstairs. Heavy banging's followed as the zombie reached the stairs, each thump making his heart skip. Dib grabbed Gaz and pulled her to the side of the room near the door. He put a finger to his lips and motioned for her to crouch in-between the wall and his bookshelf. She shook her head not following. He grit his teeth and whispered in her ear his plan. Gazzy nodded and followed his lead. Dib sighed and walked to the window. He looked over at his sister who murmured something incomprehensible.
Dib gave a small smile, "Yeah I love you too, Gazette."
"What? That wasn't what I said."
There was a large bang against his door. Gazzy immediately drew the bat up to swing while Dib raised his arms over his head. The silver knob slowly turned. Then another shove reverberated against the door. The knob rattled violently back and forth. Huge slams shook the door, making it creak. Dib remembered trying to make the pounding seem not so bad. He had imagined the rhythmic pounding as drum beats. Boom ba, boomba, boom ba. It took a little bit of fear away. Made it more pleasant to stand waiting for who knows what. At least that was what he told himself then. Suddenly the slamming and the knob rattling stopped leaving an uneasy silence to linger in the house.
Even though he was only eight he knew something wasn't right. He tentatively lowered his hands and stole a glance at his little sister. She shrugged and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear before gripping the bat tighter and raising it a little higher. Her face was a mask of indifferent determination. He was only able to take one step forward before a large splinter appeared in the oak door. He was ashamed to say he regrettably screamed while balling his fists and shaking them violently like a girl.
"Psh…whiner." Gaz rolled his eyes at him.
Mrs. Gravelli's pale hand broke a small hole in the door with a crack. Cuts flowed foul smelling blood onto white skin, her nails scraped at the white paint along the door leaving short claw-like marks in the wood. For some reason the blood on white reminded him of Snow White being brought back to life from death. If Snow White came back, then the prince got a whole lot more than he bargained for. The hand retracted itself back into the hallway. A empty eyeball peered into the room eyeing him eagerly. He could have sworn he saw wild glee in those eyes before they disappeared again. Dib backed away towards the wall. He heard a loud squeal and saw the zombies shoulders protrude through the doorway. Its arm flailed wildly trying to grab him. Dib let out a large shriek as Mrs. Gravelli brought the remaining middle of the door down with a smash. She fell near Gazzy's bookshelf. Dib had felt so afraid for her then that he thought he was going to throw up. But luckily it seemed that zombie hadn't seen her through the peephole and was too focused on him to notice her.
The elderly zombie pushed herself up from the ground and froze, studying him with eager anticipation. Mrs. Gravelli brought herself into a crouch and began to slowly stalk him on all fours like a cat stalked an injured bird. Dib felt like his little heart was going to explode. His body felt like a coiled wire but his mind wasn't working right. He knew what was going on around him but couldn't think a thought. He looked over the zombies' head and saw Gazzy slowly inching her way towards the door. She stopped and looked at him. He heard her silently ask him if he was sure this was okay. Dib remembered nodding and watching her leave the room. He turned back to Mrs. Gravelli who was less than a few feet from him. Her body tense and bend down low. And for just a single moment he felt time slow.
He saw her mouth open wide enough to see down her throat…her hands slowly extended out as she hurled herself forward with her legs…her mouth blood seeped from the corners of her mouth drawing a thin red line down her cheek and throat…her eyes had swirls leading into the center…then…he felt adrenalin coil spring. A blur of images passed through his mind so fast he was only able to recognize a few of them. The yellow polka dots on Mrs. Grevellis dress, someone calling his name, his feet slipping on his gray carpet, running for the door, his father yelling at him to duck followed by a sickening crack.
Dib had found himself lying on the floor looking up at his Dad. Behind him the zombie clutched the side of its skull, howling in pain. The world then seemed to have lost its ability to make noise. Dirty red liquid spilt out between her hands matting her silver hair. Her mouth opened and closed soundlessly, her features twisted in agony. He vaguely felt his Dad shake him. He couldn't pull his eyes off of his once neighbor bleeding out on the floor. She collapsed onto her back. Her back began arching, he could see her entire body shudder down her fragile body.
Suddenly his face turned sideways. His father was looking directly into his face seemed to have been telling or asking him something.
Dib couldn't find a way to make his mouth work. His brain was still trying to figure out what had just happened.
Then he was looking at the hallway ceiling, then he was being set down somewhere. He didn't know where he was.
He chose to just watch the light dance against his father's goggles.
They were weird.
You couldn't see into them.
His father suddenly disappeared and reappeared with a man dressed like him.
The man shined something bright in his eyes.
Dad and Bright light man seemed to talk for a long time.
Gazzy came up to him.
She started poking him with the tip of a marker.
She then moved the marker across his face.
She smirked before being hauled away from him by Dad.
The Bright light man gave him something.
Two somethings actually.
Bright light man put something around him and something in his hands.
He left alone for he didn't know how long…
but it felt like a long time…
He didn't know when he fell asleep but he must have. He kept his eyes closed trying to remember what was going on or better yet where he was. Dib then began to notice many things. The first thing Dib realized was that he could feel again. Something heavy rested across his back preventing him from pulling himself up off his stomach. He felt something warm and soft surrounding him. He burrowed further into the warmth enjoying its comforting embrace. The second was that he was in fact being embraced. His head was resting on what he came to assume was their chest. He felt the steady rising and falling of whoever's chest and the beat of their heart. It was a pretty weird experience though not necessarily a bad one. It kind of made him think of being on a ship. The third thing was that he was starting to recover his hearing. At first everything sounded like it was being heard under water, all stretched out and warped. Then slowly he felt the water drain away. He heard the distant sound of a woman announcing the weather tomorrow. The steady drum of the person's heartbeat and their soft breaths.
A voice softly sighed pushing a small strand of hair out of his face, "I still can't figure out how you managed to turn Mrs. Gravelli into a zombie, Son." Dib felt the chest lower as his Dad spoke. That was the fourth thing Lil' Dib realized. That his Dad was talking to him while he thought that he was asleep. Dib decided it was best to pretend to still be asleep, curious as to what his father would say or do next. His fathers' chest remained steady for a while longer before taking a breath to talk some more.
"I suppose you were playing with my lab equipment outside and Mrs. Gravelli came to check up on you. I don't know. How the heck does an 8 year old turn a person into a zombie? It's unfathomable." his Dad chuckled a little at that last part for some reason. Dib felt his father play a little with his small mini scythe. He felt his Dad flatten down the defiant hair strand against his head. As soon as his father released his hair, Dib felt it spring straight up. He felt his Dad suppress a laugh before continuing on his short monologue, his tone telling him he was clearly amused.
"Yes, you've definitely got my hair. Unfortunately for you…. I love you son." Dib felt happy shock course through his body. "I wish you weren't so INSANE but still you're definitely my son. My poor insane son." He felt his Dad yawn and clutch him tightly as he shifted his weight. Dib heard the shifting of box springs and the click of the television shutting off. "You are going to be in SO much trouble when you wake up, young man."
He shifted around for a while longer before his chest feel into a slow and steady rise. Dib opened his eyes to find that he was looking at his fathers face…or at least half of his face. The bright sunlight had faded away through the window. His Dad was sprawled across the couch on his back, one arm supporting his head the other wrapped across Dibs back to prevent him from rolling off the sofa. He decided he'd take the heat later. For now he would enjoy the warmth. Dib reached out for his fathers arm and brought it closer around him before drifting off to sleep again.
Dib opened his eyes from the memory to find him hugging himself. He tried to push his arms away in self-disgust but he was so twisted up in blankets that he couldn't move. I feel like a human burrito!, Dib thought angrily wiggling desperate to escape his cotton chains. He twisted until he accidently rolled off the bed and kissed the floor.
Or Quesada., Dib amended.
After a few minutes of general cursing he heard a knock from downstairs. Dib struggled with the blankets for a few more minutes before giving up. "Gaz!" he called "Could you get the door?"
"Get it yourself ." Gaz reappeared in his doorframe upside down, enjoying a can of poop cola. Dib somehow managed to make it to his feet and hop past his sister. He paused before moving towards the stairs. He gave his sister the steeliest glare he could manage.
"You're a reeal piece of work you know that.", Dib snapped, still annoyed that he'd allowed himself to get so emotional.
Gaz looked him over. She raised an eyebrow before taking a sip of her cola before walking off towards the stairs. She shoved him aside and went on walking. Dib teetered but didn't fall over which was impressive he supposed since he couldn't flail his arms around. He hopped a few times before reaching the perilous descent. He stared down the black stairs before hearing a small cough behind him. He turned his head in time to have soda spray him in the face. He sputtered coughing, taking a hop back, only to find empty space where the floor should have been. He wobbled back and forth on the edge of the first step. Gaz stood there watching him flounder around.
"Help me!" he pleaded. He looked deep into Gazs' squinting eyes. He looked behind him down the fifteen carpeted stairs. 83% of all stair related accident happened on the stairs. He looked back at Gaz who examined his predicament with, as always, thoughtful indifference. She did the unexpected and expected.
She shrugged setting her can down on the floor. She wiped her hands on her black jumper before coming to stand within an inch of his face. She the sucked in a breath and blow gently on his face. He slowly fell like a tree in the woods. He cried out as the blanket was ripped off him as he fell down the stars.
"Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow-ooapenny-ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. OW!" . He reached the landing with an unfortunate crack. Dib had bitten his tongue hard enough to make it bleed. He only had one pair of glasses. Of course he had to bend them. The person at the door was growing irritated, banging on the door as well as holding the doorbell. Dib looked up at his sister who gazed down at the blanket trapped beneath her foot. She looked up from the blanket to her brother sprawled on the floor. She just looked down at him.
"There. That'll be my good deed for the next 3 years." She stooped down and walked off with her cola, to her room no doubt. Dib signed in annoyance, using his knees to help him get up. Dib frowned trying to straighten his blue shirt as well as his spine.
Ugh who knew falling down stairs hurt so much?, Dib thought as he rubbed a sore spot on his back. The knocker was getting really irritated now. Whoever it was had begun to pound on the door with their fist so hard the wood shook.
"Alright, alright, I'm coming. Jeez.", he growled. Dib stomped over to the blue door. He normally never got angry. He normally got frustrated but this wasn't a 'normal' day. This had been a horrible emotionally exhausting day. Dib grabbed the silver knob, closed his eyes and flung the door open wide so hard it slammed against the back wall. He glared up at the woman standing on the front stoop. "You're the therapist aren't you? Of course you are, come in eat my food and pretend to care, write meaningless scribbles on the clipboard and get your-"
"Well you're special." The tall woman interrupted, taking it upon herself to let herself in. She looked around before twirling on her black high heels, making her black hair flutter in the breeze. She had on a pin stripe suit-making her look more like a lawyer than a therapist-with black high heels. Her skin was the color of dry brush, dead leaves, and sun dried dust. Her hair was close cropped and shaved around the sides so only the top of her hair. She carried a small black briefcase with her which made her look even more like a lawyer. "Now Dib, I can see that you've really had a bad day, and me being your therapist isn't really a godsend that things are going to get better. But you're going to have to trust me okay? I'm not here to eat, or write, or even pretend to care. I'm here because you're case actually interests me. I'm doing this for free after all."
The therapist walked ahead a little more before bending down on her knees to where Dibs head was held still stood frozen with the rest of his body at the door. He had lowered his arms a long time ago and now just stood there regarding the lady with a suspicious look. He did not expect this reaction to his little outburst. Plus there was a sort of off setting thing about this woman's olive green eyes that told him this person had a tendency to do things spontaneously. Her eyes searched him, trying to see what was going on inside him. She sighed, "Oh dear, I'm afraid we really have gotten off on the wrong foot haven't we?"
When he said nothing she continued, "I'll take your silence as a definite yes?" He nodded his head slowly. "Ah I thought so. My banging and inviting myself in probably was a little prudent of me wasn't it?" Dib nodded again. "Ah I see. Well then maybe we should start over?" Dib nodded his head again.
"Well then, lets start over.", She stood back up and walked into the doorway. She then rang the doorbell and waited patiently admiring the house. Dib walked over and pretended to open the door. She beamed down at him. "Hello there, you must be Dib. My name is Dr. Tonja. May I come in?"
"Wait," Dib said eyebrows raising to the sky in shock, "you mean the Doctor Tonja? The one who closed the crazy house for boys?"
"I'd rather not talk about that horrible place. It wasn't a hospital, it was a prison cell.", Dr. Tonja shifted her weight uncomfortably on her heels. "I had to close it."
Dib narrowed his eyes, "What happened to all the crazy people then?" The idea of random crazies running around on the street freaked him out. Dr. Tonja stood up a little straighter, looking happier to answer this question.
"Well the ones who passed the pysch exmination get to live there life and the ones who have prison records and fail the exams are being temporarily held in prison until I get enough registered doctors and nurses to help me set up the new facility. Now may I caome in." she asked smiling.
some registered doctors and nurses to help me rebuild. Now may I come in?" she asked sweetly. Dib pretended to think it over.
"Sure why not." He pretended to open the door a little wider. "Me Casa es su casa, right?" The shrink walked in the door smiling.
Authors note: I have been thinking about a musical piece that captures the essence of my story. I'm thinking about either choosing Richard Meyers Alfred Strings 1997 Mantras (one of my favorites and an amazing classical piece.), Rosin Eating Zombies From Outer Space part one and two (my second fav classical piece), or just using the Imagine dragons entire album Night Visions. Post Script: If you haven't heard the two classical pieces you definitely should or else you're missing some great culture.
Oh and this is a Post Script to the Post Script: Anybody see Ghost Rider? Love the Transformation into the Ghost Rider. Also Blackheart sort of looks and sounds exactly like what Johnny C does to me…he's got the voice and coat and everything. seriously.