escaping from zombies. i’m in a house, and some guys who look like cops are coming. there’s one really tall and buff guy, in particular. not really sure how i know what he looks like… think i see a movie-like third-person shot of him outside my house and somehow put together that he is this bad dude who is coming for me. i don’t know who i’m with, but it’s a boy. i crack open a window and kick out the mesh and leave from it. the boy hesitates because he wants to see some new dragonball z game. i shall not tolerate that ridiculousness and tell him he needs to come. he finally concedes.
we run through the streets — but perhaps i am now alone — and now zombies are frothing at the mouth and trying to beckon us (or me) to join them… they have kind of a goo trail from their mouths and the second you touch it, you turn into a zombie.
before i know it, i’m at this house. i guess my parents live there? it’s this really nice house up on top of a GIANT hill. like giant. like a mountain. when i first get there, there are no zombies. soon, my mom sees them approaching down below on our giant garden / lawn. she tells this to my dad and he is less angry about the idea than he is about the idea of zombies trampling his garden. (both of my parents are white.)
inside the main entry way of our house are all kinds of pots… of the gardening variety. they are empty. they are arranged in some fancypants way. soon, zombies appear at our door. i decide to use some of the giant gardening porcelain pots to attack the zombies with. on the walkway in front of our house, there is basically a giant cliff. the stairway up runs along to the right side, but immediately in front of the door is just a space for standing, and behind that is a long ways down to the ground below.
zombies come solo for a while — a lot of girls, i think — and i use the giant pot to push them off the cliff to down below. some fall in a pool. some splatter to their death. they certainly all die. i hear some zombie mentioning that ## of zombies are dead out of ## who have been converted, and the number that was dead was sooooo small compared to the number that had been converted.
the zombies keep coming, some in pairs, and i keep pushing them off. it seems my parents have disappeared. i’m running out of pots, because i would sometimes throw the pots off with the zombies.
but soon comes this guy that doesn’t look like a zombie. it’s extremely surprising. he is this extremely good-looking dirty blonde guy wearing a white shirt and grey jeans. i pretty much forget all about the danger, and my first words to him are something like, “if i can be a zombie with you for eternity, i’ll do it.” i reckon he is amused by this sentiment, and comes in. the zombies have gone away for the evening. he tells me he’s a ‘turner’ and somehow i know exactly what that means — he can turn zombies back into humans.
this is a thought that fascinates me. so he tries it on me. we kiss. he turns when i turn. i guess he has zombie in him, but it’s dormant. the process is slightly painful and i feel a little “green” and like i have boils on my body. it’s a little dizzying. but that’s about it.
my new lover takes the time to try and turn some mega harmless girl zombie who is in the corner of the house, not attacking anyone. he puts his hand on her leg and it is quite obviously painful to transform from a zombie to a human. he turns human as he’s doing this, but it’s difficult for him to heal her because she’s being a pussy and can’t handle the pain. she brushes him off and shakes her head at him. she’s content being a zombie.
more kissing turns me back from a zombie into a human. he doesn’t turn from a human back into a zombie. it also doesn’t really hurt — perhaps because it hurts more the longer you’ve been a zombie and i’d only been one for a very brief time.
we spend the night cuddled up on the couch with two other people there — presumably tinwin and karen — and zombies don’t come in the night for some reason. i am amazingly content.
come morning, zombies stir me awake. so up until now, when i had been attacking zombies at my door with pots, i would open the door to greet them — to surprise them — and push them off the cliff before they ever got to the point of knocking on the door or breaking it. this morning, i see two zombies outside my door and open the door to do what i had done before. (there is like, one large brown porcelain pot left in the house, not including the one i have in my hand.) to my surprise, there are more than two zombies in front of my door. the other ones are being sneaky, and have wrapped themselves around the side of the house, near the stairs. oh shit. they’re forcing their way in, and force me in by pushing the pot.
and then i sees it. zombie lenny. zombie lenny is holding a broken piece of ceramic plate and is threatening me with it in some way. he breaks off another small sliver of the broken plate, making it more dull than it previously was. not sure why.
he kind of corners me back into my room, which happens to be on the same floor, and kisses me. i turn. apparently he has had this all plotted out and has this book with him. after he turns me, he pulls open the book. it’s like, a death book of sorts. before us were two other people — two males — who had died together. perhaps members of his family. now he filled in some empty spots within these red stamps with my name and his name. and then he proceeded to die / pass out…… fully expecting me to do the same right next to him. but as always, lenny passed out with the quickness, and i didn’t even feel close to wanting to die. i guess in this world being a zombie was a sickness, and the longer you were one, the more likely you were to just die.
so while he passes out i grab half of this giant human-sized donut that had been sitting in my room. no idea why. i guess it’s so old part of it had molded black and was flaking off. a thin shell of the glaze type stuff remained and i carried it to the living room, part with donut, but most of it was looking like a piece of snakeskin (flat). not sure what i intended to do with it. make the zombies sick with mold somehow???
when i get back in the living room, i drop the mold donut in shock. karen and tinwin are on the couch, looking like they are asleep. my nameless lover is on the couch next to them, also ‘asleep’. it’s fucked up. they’ve attached some kind of mechanical pump to him that looks like a bunch of koolaid type drink packets strung together. a girl is sitting on his lap, also asleep, and his fluids are being pumped to her for some reason. two “head zombies” are to the right, supervising. i’m not sure what they are doing, but i somehow have the idea that they are going to be using him to sell some kind of soft drink that really rich people can buy to keep themselves from being zombies. i guess zombies need money too…??? i feel completely helpless because i can’t do anything to help him. it’s completely disturbing. i think about touching him to hopefully turn him into a zombie, but am afraid of killing him since machines are attached to him. in retrospect, i think i should have put him out of his misery, but there surely must have been a selfish aspect to that too.