High School of the Dead

Chapter 1

Rachel hopped off of the steps of the school bus, glad that she could finally relax. She walked down the sidewalk to her house and opened the front door. 

"Mom! I'm home!"

She set her backpack down next to the door and slid off her shoes, tossing them next to it. 

"Mom?!" she called out. 

Rachel pulled her lunch box out and carried it into the kitchen. She saw her mom standing in the middle of the doorway to the backyard.

"Mom, the door's open. You're going to let the bees in."

Rachel walked over to her and put her hand on her arm.

"Mom, I'm hom-"

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I open the door to my dad's car and get out, walking on the sidewalk up to the front door. Dad opens his door, steps out, and leans back into the car to grab his paperwork and binders from work. Our next door neighbor starts walking over to us, but I ignore them and head inside - I don't really know them all that well. I pull the front door open and step inside. My little sister walks over to our mom to talk to her as I go into the kitchen to put my stuff away.

"Hey mom."

"Mom, the door's open. You're going to let the bees in," Rachel says, annoyed. She walks over to our mom and grabs her arm.

"Mom, I'm hom-"

Rachel and I scream as my mom spins around and rips into Rachel's neck, grabbing Rachel's shoulder and the other side of her neck as she takes off a chunk of her and swallows. Rachel continues to scream, but is quickly silenced by another bite to the neck, making blood spew out all over her clothes and the floor. 

I freeze in horror, quickly understanding the situation at hand. 

Zombies...my mom's a zombie...

I step back and bump into a tall, growling creature. I quickly start to back up as I turn around to see my dad, blood covering his white shirt and rolling down his neck, who lunges forward trying to take a bite of me. He blocks the main entrance to the kitchen and shuffles towards me.

"Dad! No wha-!"

I slip on the hardwood floor and fall backwards. I look up to see my dad closing in on me, though I don't hear anything from my mom or sister. I quickly start scooting back and bump into the stools for the island in the middle of our kitchen. I turn around and pull myself up, looking around frantically for something to use or a way to escape; I see both.

I notice the threshold between the kitchen and the dining room, which leads back to the front door for an easy escape. Then I notice the large butcher knife at the back of the knife block on the other side of the island. Going to get it would trap me between my zombified dad and mom, who is devouring my (hopefully) now-dead sister. The adrenaline and need for a split-second decision leaves me with no time to think: I go for the knife. 

I run the few steps around the counter and grab it, pulling it out of its wooden sheath. The sunlight from the window reflects off of the smooth metal as I turn around to face him. Growling, drooling, and making weird gagging sounds, he shuffles around the island, sealing my fate. I raise the knife to face-level and blink, trying to separate this nightmare from reality. 

It doesn't happen.

"Dad...please..."

I begin to sob as I beg him to stop, for all of it to stop; he doesn't seem to hear my pleas.

I wipe the tears forming in my eyes and lift the knife above my head, pause, then quickly bring it down in a clean arc that cuts into his skull. 

Blood spatters out and hits me. A few dots of blood start to drip down my glasses as I watch his body shudder, then collapse. His head hovers in front of my stomach though, and I realize that I'm still holding onto the handle of the knife, and that the knife is stuck in his head and holding it up.

I retch and throw up the snacks that I had eaten before I got home, slowly letting go of the knife and allowing my dad to fall flat on the ground in front of me. I blink back more tears and notice that my mom is moving towards me now, arms extending as she inches closer. I breathe, blink again, and stumble over my dad to avoid her. I notice the outline of Rachel's legs on the ground as I go back around the counter; I look away. I trudge, with shaky legs, out of my house and into the burning sunlight that awaits me.

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