You Would Too- [Part 7]
So there I stood, Zombie-Nathan towering in my doorway, croaking and moaning and oozing all kinds of putrid liquids. They must have put him in an airtight coffin. I heard that when you are put in an airtight coffin, you just sort of turn into liquid. He looked pretty well along that road. When Zombie-Nathan lunged at me again, aiming to take a bite out of my arm, I swung out with the hammer and caught him on the nape of his neck. I heard a crack as Nathan went limp, and fell to the ground. “Not Nathan,” I thought “just a body. Just A Body.”
I ran to Robert’s room, in the few seconds it took to stumble there, images of a bloody Robert lying in bed with chunks of him bitten out flashed in my mind. Worse, images of the same bloody Robert, standing and ready to start lunging for my brains as well.
Robert’s door was closed, I flung it open, swinging the hammer above my head, ready to bury it in his skull too.
He was lying in bed, eyes glazed over and wide open, his left arm dangling limply to the floor.
“Shit.” I thought, as I entered slowly and lowered the hammer. All I could see of him was above shoulder level and the arm that dangled to the floor, the rest of him was behind a desk. I approached slowly, bracing myself for the human bite wounds and puddles of blood I expected to encounter.
He had a pair of those huge headphones that look like the kind you use to drown out chain saw noise on, I could faintly hear Blondie’s “Funky Town” emanating from them as I got closer. When I finally could see all of him, I didn’t see any blood, but he still didn’t blink, didn’t sit up.
Finally I got close enough to stand over him, the hammer in my hand, still timidly ready to strike.
He blinked. Then he scrunched up his face and swallowed a pool of spit that had collected in the back of his mouth. “Hmm…what?” He said, seeming to wake from a sleep.
Robert had been zoning a lot lately apparently. I just hadn’t noticed because I never went into his room or spoke to him much. He probably spent 22 hours of his day doing this every day since Rach__l died.
“You dead?” I whispered down to him.
“MMmmm..no.” He rubbed his eyes and turned to look at the wall.
I left him there, and went into the kitchen, thinking about what had just happened, what to do. Walking in circles and trying to control the shaking and the thoughts racing through my head, wondering if I was dreaming or not. Fearing I might not be.
I called 911. The lines were busy. I dragged Nathan into the back porch and locked the door behind me, then I cleaned my room. I didn’t stop shaking for a second. I think, just a little, I’m still shaking
09.14.01