Adios Amigos!

I am leaving today for Oxford, for my new found job.
I am leaving Jesse for five weeks all by his lonesome.
I am sure he will be just fine, and we will keep in contact regularly.
I am thinking maybe I will get him to tell some tales on here for me while I am away.
I am going to leave now!

Good day!

What's A Sweetheart Like You Doing In a Dump Like This?

I apologize in advance, this post is not really going to make too much sense I don't think and there's no real structure.

Today, something happened that had quite an impact on me. Today I saw a man get killed over something so stupid, a 5 year old could have resolved the issue. I've really mixed feelings about the whole incident, shock, anger, depression, sadness, disgust, sympathy, anxiety, stress...etc. It's really made me think about life, and family, and how angry people can get over the stupidest things and not think about their actions. It all happened when I was walking by the shop up our street. There were two trucks parked in the street, with construction workers pulling down some scaffolding off of a building. On the other side of the trucks, there was a man who seemed to be getting rather upset that these two trucks were blocking off one lane of traffic (it was easy enough for him to drive around) I chuckled as I went into the shop, '' Oh those English people, so angry.''
So I went in to the shop and bought my 4pints of milk and walked out to the street. The man was still getting angry and was throwing bits of bricks at one of the construction workers. The construction worker just ignored him and continued working. By this time someone had called a police officer and she was approaching the scene, when the guy who was throwing bricks got in to his car, put it in reverse ( we all thought'' yay he's going away!''), then started going forward very fast and hitting the construction worker. It was the most horrific thing I'd ever witnessed. I immediately felt sick to my stomach, and nearly threw up. His body was like a slinky when it went over the car, then his head cracked into the pavement and immediately crimson filled the street. It was terrible. I can still picture it, and I'm afraid if I go to sleep that's all I'll see. I was so close. I could feel the shake of the ground when his head hit. I could see the gaping whole in his head, and then the immediate pool of blood. I had to stay around, as a witness, with about 15 other people. And now I'm sitting here with that horrible image in my mind, and it won't go away. I feel so sorry for that poor construction worker, he was just doing his job. He didn't even try to argue with the man, he just kept working. I don't know, I don't understand how you could get so angry over something so stupid. Gah! It's terrible.


Morgan.

The Times They Are A-Changing

So Jesse and I have had an interesting weekend to say the least. We were stranded in London/Oxford for the weekend, it's quite a bit complicated to explain but let's just say the British rail system can be rather terrible at times. I don't think I've had a flawless train journey since my momma was here. Anyways, the reason we were out of Plymouth was that I had a job interview in Oxford for a company called Dialogue Direct, a company that works for charities like British Red Cross, Friends of The Earth, Shelter, Children's Society, and Amnesty International. So I went and did my interview, which went fantastically, then we headed to the train station. Once there we were lucky enough to be there in time for a train that left in 2 minutes. So we hopped on the train, and announcement came on saying that the train would be slightly delayed, no big deal we weren't in any rush. Ten minutes go by, then twenty, then thirty, then forty. I'm just about to bust open my humous and carrots when another announcement comes on ''All trains have been cancelled due to a major power cut.'' and that was it, pure and utter chaos erupted throughout the train station.

They called coaches to come and get people to take them to their destinations but there wasn't enough buses for everyone (including us). A small riot of angry customers began to form, and the police were called. Luckily we met up with four other people who needed to get to Plymouth, they told us if we could get to Paddington Station in London there would be a train to Plymouth. So us and the 4 hunted down a taxi driver and begged him to drive us to the next small town so that we could get to London. The driver agreed and made the trip for free (there were two women who were absolutely bawling their eyes out, they needed to catch planes out of Heathrow so he felt really bad.) Once at the small station in Didcot, we jumped on a train to Reading which was packed! We stood in the aisles in between the seats along with plenty other people. Once in Reading we rushed over to a train to London Padington and were able to sit down, although the train was also packed.

Once we arrived at Paddington Station, we found that there were no trains to Plymouth until Sunday. So we had no option but to stay in London for the night, there was no way we were going back to Oxford, it was too much of a hassle. So we went down to this little hotels booth in the station, and this Will Smith-esque man found us a B&B for only £55/night. I was a bit apprehensive that the price was so low, I thought it was going to be a shithole (excuse my language) because it was right by the Marble Arch and there was no way there was some place that cheap there. But it was actually a very nice (very small, think walk in closet with double bed) place, with free breakfast. We got there and slept.

The next morning we figured we'd roam around a bit, seeing as there were no trains still. We basically just walked all over central London all day, it was pretty cool. We went to St Paul's Cathedral, the Tate Museum of Modern Art, and London Tower Bridge. Then I got a call from one of my friend's saying that if we could make it back to Oxford it would be cheaper to stay there overnight than in London. So we headed back to Oxford, booked ourselves in a nice hostel, went and got a kebab, then came back and had SHOWERS (hooray for showers!), and went to bed.

When we woke up, we had a nice little breakfast provided by the hostel. Ham and cheese sandwich with digestive biscuits and OJ, yo! Then we set off to go buy me a new shirt because I'd been wearing the same one for two days (it was disgusting, but I hadn't been planning on staying over somewhere all weekend). So we got me a lovely £1.68 T-shirt from Primark, I love that place. Then we went and got some lunch from Sainsbury and headed to the train station. We took a train to London Paddington again, then a train to Tiverton, then a coach provided by the train station to Plymouth because the line between Tiverton and Penzance (south of Plymouth) was shut down. We got home, ate soup and went to bed.

A crazy, crazy adventure but worth it because I've got a job now. YAY! REJOICE! And Jesse has an interview with the same company sometime in the near future, so hopefully that whole thing doesn't play out again haha. But yes, things seem to be improving at the moment and hopefully they continue to improve.

Ouch.

Well, just a little post for now. It's been a bad few days. Well, a really bad few days. A few days made drearier by the horrid singing coming from above me. I can forgive that though. This might serve to reiterate what morgan has already said, but I guess you get to hear it from my point of view this time. We have no jobs. I'm not sure if there exists any jobs for us. Everyday is a search for employment, and everyday is a kick in the pants when you open up the rejection letters and see that indeed, nobody would like to hire us. I've stopped looking for help wanted signs and instead we've started a sort of smear campaign, tossing resume after resume at potential employers, hoping for someone to get sacked so that one of us might have a chance at some kind of income. Gosh golly. What do I do mom? I woke up today with a good amount of blood on my pillow, and a hole in my cheek. I'm not sure what to do. (not about the cheek). The only consolation I have is that nobody else here can get a job either. I'm having a hard time being silly in anyway right now. I can see why england is angry right now. I'm not sure what to do. The good news is... I love canada! ha. No. No. No. Not sure what to do. Things just aren't working out. Not at all. Things are bad.

I must be off.
This is my mom as a zombie. Sorry mom.

As the world falls down....

Although exciting, it is becoming a slightly depressing time here in England. Jobless again, we've been on a mad search for employment anywhere. The past week we've been scouring the city for jobs and littering our CV's (resumes) absolutely everywhere. It doesn't help that it seems that everything is closing down here either. Marks & Spencers, Woolsworth, Debenhams...as well as just local shops. So far since Monday, Jesse and I have both received rejection letters from two different hotels. Hopefully we'll get at least one person to hire us, or hire at least one of us. It's almost getting to the point where we've started applying at places a second or even third time. Hopefully someone will take us poor little Canadians in and give us some money. Would we be prosperous moving somewhere else in England, or should we just give up and come home? This is a question I'm constantly asking myself. Gah, 'tis frustrating. Oh well, hopefully we won't become homeless too soon....

MORE BACK LOG!!!!

Again with the dreams, I'm sorry, I apologize, It's all I had to do. Also, it was a very stressful time, hence the content. This post is directed at my mother, and I'm sorry mom, you never seem to appear in a proper light! Enjoy the dream, and don't worry, once the backlog is posted we can all move on to better things, and things that actually happened. Again, sorry mom.

''Nightmare''

I needed a job, so my mother referred me to a man they called ''Big Tony''. He was the manager and owner of the largest hotel in the world wouldn't ya know it. My mother told me she and Tony had a history and so getting a job there should be no problem. I made my way to the hotel, which was easy enough to find as it stuck out of the skyline like an errect penis. It was huge, making it's way up into the clouds, and from the entrance, you were too close to see the top of it. I stepped in the hotel and asked the lady at the front desk where I could find Big Tony. ''Where else but the penthouse suite?'' she said. I made my way toward the elevator.
''You ever been on one of those kid?''
''It's just an elevator.''
''Ok then, enjoy the ride''
I stepped inside and pressed the ''P'' button and the door began to close. The lady at the front desk flashed me a smile and winked. I stood, patiently waiting for it to start. It was a tiny elevator. It was about the same size as an average closet and it only had one light from above. It felt like a coffin. I noticed that behind me, there were handles on the ground. I wondered what they were for.
There came a great humming noise from beneath my feet and the elevator began to creak and moan loudly. Then, without warning, it shot upwards and I was thrown to the ground, I lay on my back, my stomach feeling heavy, watching the lights as the elevator ascended. Floor one, two, three, five, eight, twelve, seventeen! I was plastered to the ground, and the small elevator was screeching and banging it's way up the center of the building. I watched the floors again and noticed how far I still had to go, floor 999, the penthouse. I had begun to calm myself a bit, now believing that this was simply how the elevator worked, and I was in no danger. My heart still pounded away however and I was trying hard not to piss my pants. That's when the wall behind me started to slide away, leaving a thick glass window to look out of. The shaking had stopped and the feeling in my stomach subsided and I figured we must have stopped accelerating. The view was amazing. Support beams wizzed by the window every quarter second and the city sprawled out below me, tiny buildings lit by tiny orange lights.
I looked back at the lights inside the elevator and realized that I was almost at the top. I peered back out of the window and watched as we entered the clouds, no more buildings visible, no more ground, just a stretch of beautiful clouds, alomst too dark to see. The wooden door began sliding back over the window and the last thing I saw outside was the elevator passing the top of the clounds, lit red by the city below.
The rumbling began again the I began to feel light, too light, like a feather, I sat down immediatly and grabbed the handles on the floor. I returned to my normal weight, and the doors clanked open. I got to my feet and walked out, proud that I had survived. I looked about and noticed I was in a large kitchen. Everywhere I looked, people my age where set to prepare meals, and I had noticed the one dressed in all black, he seemed to be of some importance although just a teenager himself. I wandered the kitchen giving instruction and praise, and every once in a while taking over to show the young chef's how it was done.
He saw me standing by the entrance to the elevator and came over immediatly. ''Hello'' he said, quite simply.
'' Hey.. umm, I'm looking for someone they call.. Big Tony?''
'' Sure, sure, I'll go get him.''
The boy did a pirouhette and shouted, ''Here I am!''
I stood for a moment, not sure how to handle his joke.
'' Really though, I'm Big Tony, your mom used to baby-sit me.''
''Oh... Excellent, so, I heard you might have a job for me.''
''You betcha, come with me.'' He made his way toward the kitchen and I followed close behind, not wanting to get in anybody's way as they prepared meals for the guests of the hotel.
''So, how does one so young, become so succesful?'' He turned his head slightly and replied,
''Honesty, honesty, and more honesty.''
''Really?''
'' Ya, and honeslty kid? You're cramping my style.'' I stopped following him and stood in the middle of the kitchen, confused.
''LURCH!'' He screamed.
I looked all around me and from behind me, I noticed a giant boy. Perhaps eight feet tall, walking toward me and cracking his knuckles. He seemed as wide as he was tall, a human wall. A human wall who looked like he was about to enjoy very much, eating me alive with his huge drooling mouth. His hair was long and unruly, and his lips looked intensly red, as if they were covered with spit. His eyebrow's stuck out past his nose and his face seemed to be covered in dirt, except his cherry red lips, which he kept popping back into his mouth and his black pants which seemed slightly tight. The other boys had stopped cooking and now just watched. Lurch was slowly making his way toward me. I panicked and backed away, looking for something to defend myself with. A knife! It's a kitchen you fool! I grabbed the nearest knife and examined it. It was heavy and the cutting edge was slightly rounded. A perfect chef's knife. I held it in front of me and swipped back and forth, in some feeble attempt at scaring Lurch away.
Big Tony had taken his perch on some small scaffolding above the kitchen and sat with his face on his hands, as if bored by the whole thing. Lurch looked into my eyes and grunted as he swipped a knife from one of the working tables. It was huge. A beast of a knife, It's cutting edge was straight and the blade was thick, perfect for tearing through me in one good chop. I felt as though I might soil myself. Most of the other boys had cleared the kitchen, but some had just stopped and watched. There was no way I was going to fight him and win. He was too big, his skin too thick. He was slow however. Maybe I could make my way back to the elevator. No, it was blocked off. I was angry now. Not just because I was about to be chopped to death, but because I had been promised a job. I yelled. I didn't manage to make any words, I just screamed at the top of my lungs. I screamed at Lurch, who smiled and screamed back. A few of the boys who had stayed in the kitchen laughed at this. Well... I figured I was going to die at some point today, so I might as well stretch it out. I ran, not at Lurch, but at one of the boys closest to me who had laughed. He had been making a face at one of the other boys, so he hadn't noticed me, until I had jumped over his stove, he turned to run and I threw the knife at him. It planted itself awkwardly into his leg. Not a perfect throw, but I was surprised I hadn't missed or gotten him with the handle. He fell down, mostly out of shock I had guessed, which gave me enough time to catch up to him. Lurch was still lumbering toward me, and I felt I had quite enough time to deal with the boy before he caught up.
As hard as I could, I kicked. My foot made brilliant contact with the boy's face. He screamed, as he rolled over onto his back, I could see why, his eyeball was sitting beside him in a mess of blood. He covered his eye and just kept on screaming. Feeling awfully mean at this time, given my circumstances, I thought it would be best if he didn't keep his other eye. I pulled the knife out of his leg and chopped at his face, splitting his eye and the bridge of his nose. Blood. Blood. Blood. He screamed, and made gurggling noises as he choked on the blood that ran into his mouth and down his throat.
Lurch. He still lumbered after me through the great kitchen, and I realized I could avoid him as long as I needed to. A quick 20 seconds of running warrented me almost a minute to spare before having to move again. I was free to move about the kitchen as long as I kept and eye on him. Most of the other boys had fled the kitchen after seeing what had happened to the laughing chef. I wandered around the kitchen, still not looking forward to my iminnent death by giant. I looked around for anything I might be able to use. Knives, there were plenty of knives to be found. I pocketed a few small ones and grabbed ahold of a massive long knife, the size of a tiny sword. It was like a machete, but the lower half was serrated. I was sure I wouldn't be able to fight Lurch; he was just too big. I looked around at the boys, many laughing at me. This can't turn out well.
I began turning on all of the burners to high. Many still had food on them and I took special notice of the soups. I darted from one end of the kitchen to the other, and I wondered where in God's name they found Lurch. He was huge yes, but stupid beyond a doubt. He never tried to corner me, and most often, he would take the same route that I had taken to follow me. Although, then again, he might have just realized how futile it was to run. Perhaps he just enjoyed seeing me run like a mouse through a maze with nowhere to go. And I really did have nowhere to go. I was trapped, the kitchen was big, but it was completely sealed. I had no idea what to do. I could make a run at Lurch and try to take him down, but I don't much like the taste of a cleaver making it's way through my face.
I scrambled around, knocking over pot's of soup and throwing food at the floor. I emtied whole bottles of oil all over the kitchen, with no real strategic intent, other than to pass the time and hope that Lurch might slip and break his spine on something. Unlikely. I peered out of the corner of my eye at Big Tony. Big fucking Tony. He was in the same position as before, but with tears running down his face. What the fuck was this? I looked around, trying to find a way to get to the scaffolding. I scanned the whole room and saw a single black chain, dangling in a the corner of the kitchen, which felt a bit like a colleseum. Me, a warrior slave, with just a knife, fighting a lion, or some other manner of great beast. I wished I was fighting a lion as I looked at Lurch, still steadily following me. I ran toward the chain and pushed a chair up underneath it, the boys looked uneasy. The chain was a bit out of reach and I had to jump for it, I was only able to grab the very end of it. I gripped it tightly with my finger tips and began thinking it was no use holding on. The I reminded myself that Lurch had a meat cleaver with my name on it. I scrambled up the chain and pulled myself to the scaffolding. Big Tony took notice and began rushing away from me toward a black door. It was too late, he had gotten inside what ever room it was and locked himself in. I raged. I slammed into the door. I was just a wooden plywood door. I slammed into it continuesly, feeling it give in, just a bit more each time. Finally I threw myself at it and burst through the door onto the ground. Fat tony had apparently been waiting for this so he kicked blindly and caught me in the back. I got to my feet quickly and pulled out a small knife. Big Tony was of course, (as his name implied) bigger than me, but I was sure if I could get the knife close enough, say, close enough to shear his face off, then I might be able to win this fight at least. The room was small, cramped. Tony looked at me, tears still running down his face.
''I can let you go you know, I can just let you go, no question's asked.''
''I suppose you could. Why are you doing this anyway?''
''It's buisness, buisness of the heart. You could never understand my love..." He trailed off, looking into the distance for a moment.
''You're an asshole.''
''A rich asshole.''
''A dead asshole.'' I was a bit dissapointed for using such an easy line, but at the time, I felt entirely badass. I lunged at him and stabbed him in the hand, he had covered his face. I kept stabbing at him, slashing his arms to bits, kicking and stabbing. I kicked him onto the ground. There was alot of blood. Blood blood blood. Blood blood blood. A voice kept repeating it in my head. His blood blood blood. He looked up at me and said, ''It's not too late, I can still just let you go, if you kill me, Lurch will tear you apart, you need me alive!''
I kicked him in the head and continued stabbing him. Both of us were covered in his blood. I circled around behind him. Blood, blood, blood. I was furious. I pulled up on his long hair, and with the tiny knife, began sawing through his neck and pulling up on his hair. Blood blood blood. Blood spilled out of him and his face went limp. My hands were soaked. I hoisted his head onto my shoulder and walked over the broken door and out onto the scaffolding.
''Holy Shit!'' screamed one of the young chef's. Holy shit seemed to be a common sentiment and soon most of them were shouting similar exclamations. I tossed the head down from the scaffold and it landed in front of Lurch with a crack. He bent down and picked it up. He looked at the face with fondness and lifted the head close to his own. He opened his mouth and bit down on tony's lip, completely severing it from his face. Lurch looked at the severed head as he chewed the lip, rolling it around in his mouth, before swallowing.
Holy shit my head screamed. Holy shit screamed the head's of every chef in the room. I let myself down of the scaffoding and decided I should try to get rid of Lurch, or at least, as much of Lurch as possible before he ate the lips off of my face. I looked for a bottle of oil. I was going to try the old ''Enders Game'' trick and lube myself up before combat. I stripped naked and dumped the whole bottle of rapeseed oil over myself. Lurch took no notice and began making his way toward me, down the center of the kitchen. I picked up two long thin knife's and stood naked staring into Lurch's stupid eyes. I had my plan. I started toward him slowly, then gaining speed I positioned the knives in my hands. There were no sounds in the kitchen except for my slapping footsteps, and Lurch's slow sqeaky movements. I sprinted toward him and he braced himself like a line backer waiting to take someone down. I held my breath, took aim and let my feet slip out from under me, and crashing down on my back, I slide beneath Lurch and stretched out my arms. Both of the knives sunk to the hilt into his crotch and I was stopped abruptly, swinging up like a pendulum. A dead moan errupted from him and I pulled the knives out and scrambled from behind him. He turned and I could see that his black pants were glistening with blood. He turned slowly, his back arched, his face contorted and crying. Now! I ran at him and plunged both knives into either eye. His eyes were pinned shut, each knife going through the eyelid before sinking into his eye. More moaning as spit ran from his mouth like a fountain, I watched as he tried to force his eyelids open, the blades of the knife easily slicing through them. He straightened and began thrashing about feeling his way around the kitchen. I was glad I had taken the time to turn on the burners. He stummbled about, his great hands landing on burners and crashing into pot's of soup and oil.
I looked around for a weapon. I spotted another machete knife. This one entirely serrated. That'll do. Lurch was moaning and tending to his hands as I rushed up behind him and took a great swing an his head. The knife tore through skin and left a great dangling bit off the back of his head, his white skull shining through before blood red replaced the white of his bone. Blood blood blood. Blood blood blood. Pigs and blood blood blood.
I kept swinging, everytime knocking off large pieces of his thick hide. He thrashed and moaned and bled. Two knives still planted into his eyes, blood still pouring from his groin. I chopped him to pieces before he finally hit the ground, still thrashing, but unable to get up. Poor guy I thought. The chef's bordered the kitchen and most of them had made their way down the elevator. I left Lurch on the ground and made my way to the elevator, still naked. The chef's spread. About five remained in the kitchen. I got to the elevator and noticed that to get down, one needed a code. I looked in the direction of the chef's and told one of them to come over and help me get down. A smaller one rushed over, apologetically, and punched in the code. As soon as he was done I planted a small knife in his leg and stepped into the elevator. The last noise I heard before the doors closed was Lurch's deep wimpering, followed by the cries of the pained young chef.
I stood in the elevator and waited for it to begin it's frighteningly fast descent. It never did. The light inside turned off and a red emergency light turned on. Bastards, they were going to lock me in here. I looked at myself in the mirror to the left of me and noticed just how covered in blood I was. The red light from the emergency light made my whole body glow with the coating of blood. I began panicking and thrashing inside of the elvator. The walls suddenly turned to paper and I broke through, crashing face first into my back yard. I looked around, wondering how I had gotten there. My mother stood behind me where the elevator should have been, holding Tony's head and telling me that he too would have to wear his brother's skin. Blood blood blood. Skin, blood, pigs. I woke up in a sweat. I still don't have a job. Alas, alas, alas.

Back log, what you would have read yesterday, Today!

Ok, So, While we had no internet, and morgan was away, I had a series of dreams that I suppose I'll share with you. These are mostly for my mom, who every morning had to hear

''I Had a Dream''

It started out with a pig. Quite silly I know, but I hardly consciously decide in what directions my dreams go. I had received a pig for my birthday and I couldn’t stop thinking about how terrible of a present it was and how much I loathed the pig. So, I looked all around the house for something I could use to get rid of the pig. I settled on an airsoft pistol which in the dream had transformed into a handgun. I can distinctly recall saying ‘’ Here piggy piggy piggy!’’ It just sat there on my bed and looked at me with knowing black eyes. I cocked the gun and put it straight to its forehead and BANG! Blood sprayed everywhere and I revelled in it’s quick but messy death. Only... it wasn’t dead. It started squealing and running blindly around the room bleeding on everything as it thrashed around. My first thought was...Shit, now my parents will know I killed their birthday present. I cocked the gun again and kept shooting it, over and over, and over again. But the pig wouldn’t die. I figured its skull was too thick to allow the bullet to pass, and I started to panic. I looked around my room for something else I could use. A screwdriver? No, too short. A chair? I’m far too weak to swing it properly. Then I saw my baseball bat. I lunged for it while the poor beast continued to thrash and bleed. I took aim right between its eyes and struck with all my strength. Crack. Again. Crack. Crack, and finally CRACK! Its innards were now its outards and there was blood. Blood everywhere. I was about to start cleaning it when my mother came into my room and gasped. She said calmly ‘’Well, I can see you’re going to be trouble, I’m going to send you to a boys camp in Montreal for one year, and that should straighten you out’’.
I packed a few things with me, clothes et cetera. I brought the bat and the gun with me though. Just in case I needed them.
I arrived at the boy’s camp in Montreal and met a few of them. They seemed nice. Far too nice. I put my things in my sleeping bag and sat for a minute. My mother left and I was alone. The camp was full of boys, but no adults. I asked a small boy where the adults were and he shrugged his shoulders. He had been there for a while, and he told me there were no adults, and that this wasn’t a camp. It was a prison. I wandered around the camp and suddenly one of the larger boys came running at me. I stood there and slipped my arm behind my back to pull out my baseball bat, he raised his arm and as he went to punch me, I stepped aside and swung full force, hitting his hand. Homerun. He fell down screaming and nursing his hand which had been utterly obliterated by the force of his punch, and the bat. I stood over him and looked at him. Then I left a shoeprint in his face and walked away, with some of the other boys staring at me. Self defence right? A few days had passed without incident, but everyday, there were fewer and fewer boys. Then one day, a helicopter came down into the camp and a man stepped out and began addressing the boys. ‘’Zombies’’ he said, ‘’have started appearing, and I’m afraid most of your loved ones are dead, the outbreaks are far-stretched and we no longer have the resources to take care of you. As he spoke, I gathered my things and snuck onto the helicopter. I cocked my gun and aimed for the general’s knee. ‘’At this time, the threat has moved beyond our safeguards and as we speak, they’re making there way here, in search for the living flesh that they crave so much.’’ I could almost hear the smile stretching across his face. I pulled the trigger and the general crumpled to the ground, clutching his leg and yelling. The helicopter pilot turned around and gasped as he saw the end of my bat heading toward his teeth.
There would be just enough room on the helicopter for most of the boys. The all scrambled on after me and we watched as the horizon turned black as hoards of zombies made there way into the camp. Closer and closer they came. With my gun to the pilots head, I watched as the zombies made they’re way to the general. The toothless pilot started the helicopter and all of the boys watched and the general was torn bit from bit as he continued to crawl toward the helicopter. The zombie hoard encircled him and the pilot took off. I told him to fly us somewhere safe. He refused so we broke his knee. He flew the helicopter over the boundaries of the camp and started to put it down, everyone panicked as we looked outside to see zombies scattered across the city. ‘’Fly you stupid fuck!!’’ He turned around and spat blood at us, so we ripped him out of his seat and the boys began pummelling him on the floor of the helicopter. The helicopter started to spiral downwards without the pilot and we braced ourselves for a harsh landing. We came down in the middle of a street and opened the door. Zombies everywhere. I hopped off the helicopter holding my bat firmly. The boy who had attacked me only days before grabbed the bat and pulled it out of my hands. He took a swing at me and knocked me in the arm. My vision went white and I exploded at him, taking the hits in stride as I made my way toward his face. I had him on the ground, and I plunged my thumbs directly into his eyes. They slid out of the way and the tips of my fingers hit something soft behind his eyes. His screams grew louder and he pummelled me continuously. Feeling my thumbs had done the job I got up and aimed a kick at the side of his head as he blindly scrambled to get to his feet. I picked up my bat and swung at his head, I didn’t care about aiming, I just wanted him dead. My bat came down on the top of his head like a dull guillotine and I could feel the reverb through the bat as his skull shattered. He fell backwards onto the ground, I looked around and I could see that some of the zombies were closing in on me, most of the other boys had ran away, and I saw that some hadn’t escaped the dead. The large boy shook sickly on the ground as blood poured from his face, his hand broken. He looked like he was in shock. I grabbed the bat in both hands like a sword and plunged the end of it in his face, where the bone was already broken. The wood sunk into his face, without breaking the skin, but that had done it. I stumbled away, only now noticing my own injuries. I looked back and saw the dead ripping into him. An easy meal.
Stumbling through the streets of downtown Montreal I began noticing how void of life it was. How many had made it out? I kept walking, stopping to ram my bat into a grey head. The dream switched and I found myself on the outskirts of Airdrie. It was daytime now, but the zombies were coming thicker now. I remembered Laurie at that point and wondered if she was still alive. I made my way to her house over a few fences and knocked loudly on her door when I arrived. ‘’Laurie!!! Are you a zombie?’’ I heard quick footsteps inside and she opened the door and let me in before quietly shutting it and bolting it. She had knives tucked into a belt and her hair was pulled back. Her shirt was stained with blood, but she looked calm. ‘’Where is everyone’’ I asked. She told me that many had left but most had barricaded themselves in their houses, fighting them as they came. She told me her parents and sister were dead. A few days ago, they had decided to take a bottle of pills each, and sit and enjoy their last moments together. She said she had tried to dissuade them, but they wouldn’t give in. They took their pills, Laurie had spit hers out, and been forced to sit and watch her family pass out and die, one by one.(original I know.) ‘’Wouldn’t they wake up again?’’ I asked. She motioned to the blood stains on her shirt and told me they wouldn’t be able to. She changed the subject and told me she hadn’t eaten much since then as there wasn’t any food left. Her family had been holding itself up in the house for weeks now. We needed to get supplies. And we needed to regroup. We snuck all around Airdrie, meeting others along the way and collecting food and supplies. On the way we had collected Aidan, Morgan, Matt, Rima, and a few others simply tagging along. I wondered how the boys from the camp were doing. As we made our way to my house (which was to be our home base) we encountered a group of about 30 dead walking toward us, blocking the narrow streets to my house. We could have gone around, but Aidan had shouted out that zombies were just stupid dead idiots and we would be able to get through them no problem. Aidan was carrying a large chef’s knife and he started toward the group stabbing and slashing his way through them, taking about 5 of them out. Rima had nothing to defend herself with and she has stupidly tried to run through the group, we tried to stop her but she had gotten herself too deep in for anybody to help her. She just looked at us and started crying. A collective thought seemed to run through the group ‘’Oh hell.” We charged into the group, smashing cutting stabbing and screaming and trying to avoid their cold grasps. Rima was spinning around in circles and yelling out slapping them and trying her best to not be eaten. One of them grabbed a hold of her and started clawing her trying to draw her in for the bite. Matt leapt over a group holding a hockey stick and began shoving them back. He whipped around and caught Rima's attacker in the head, throwing him off balance and on the ground. We had taken out a good number off them so we pushed through the rest and finally made it into my house.
My mother stood, admiring the skin of a small boy hanging from a light fixture in the kitchen. A little girl whimpered in the dog kennel in the living room.
“She’ll have to wear her brother’s skin’’
We locked my mother in a room in the basement that night. We let the girl out of the kennel and she immediately ran to her brother’s pelt and started pulling herself into it. At this I heard my Mother scream from the basement “She’ll have to wear her brother’s skin!!!! She’ll have to wear her brother’s skin!!!! SHE’LL HAVE TO EAR HER BROTHER’S SKIN!!”
‘’Mom! Be quiet!’’
“SHE’LL HAVE TO WEAR HER BROTHER’S SKIN!’’
“Mom, I’m going to fucking kill you!”
Matt was behind me trying to get the girl out of her brother’s skin.
“SHE’LL HAVE TO WEAR HER BROTHER’S SKIN!”
I made my way downstairs and the focus shifted to matt, who was still struggling to get the girl from out of the skin. Rima sat in the corner screaming and Aidan had gone into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. In the basement, I opened the door and my mother came bursting out of the room, knocking me on the ground. She ran full speed past me and slammed her head into the wall. I called for Aidan who was crying from the laughter and we dragged my mother back into the room. As we came up the steps into the kitchen, we saw matt had finally coxed the little girl from the skin and we had noticed that the faceless others that had followed us had left. Morgan had started playing with the skin, putting the face up to her own and trying to scare Rima, who already lay in a ball in the corner crying. This went generally unnoticed. The doorbell rang. Zombies don’t ring doorbells. I opened the Door and saw my oldest brother Aaron with his girlfriend standing there like nothing had happened.
“Did you guys see those zombies outside? They’re a scary bunch I tell ya.”
I spun full circle and passed out.
When I awoke I was alone in the middle of the street. I still had my bat and gun on me. It was night time. I jumped to my feet and started back home, walking casually past zombies and the dead that littered the street. Every once in a while one would get too close and I’d have to give it a few knocks to the head. By the time I had made my way back home, it was daylight and I saw my dad in the backyard barbequing and generally having a grand time. I asked him how he had been surviving and he told me he had been eating people.
“Zombies do it, why can’t I?”
I looked at the grill and noticed matt’s burnt face staring up at me smiling away.
“Gross dad.”
I swung the bat into his face and knocked him to the ground, and then I pulled out the gun and shot him.
The dream switched again, and I was back in the kitchen with the little girl, only now she was faceless, just a blank, flesh coloured mass in the middle of her head. She was trying to squeeze herself into the skin again, only now the skin was bloated and rotten. I got close to her and her face whipped around and a low growl erupted from her.
Then I woke up. I still don’t have a job. I'm sorry for killing you mom and dad. I had to! I apologize! It was an accident!
Well, anyway. That was one of my dreams, I'm sorry it's not terribly interesting, because none of it actually happened, but, I thought I'd get them all out there, and hopefully we can all have a few laughs at my subconcious. Peace out! Roar! Ya, I drew this after waking up from my spooky dream. It's just some high art is all.