A long time ago, at least in the scheme of this life, I could feel the zombies coming. I didn't know what the cause would be, or when they would arrive. All the usual explanations came to mind, yet they didn't satisfy my logic. Sometimes I'd be surprised by not waking to panic and devastation.
About six years ago, I began to change my perspective.
All I needed to do was leave the house, or pay attention to the news, or even listen to the radio. It became all too obvious... There were very few humans left who had not already succumbed to zombieism. I still didn't know the exact cause, or even if it came down to one factor. My thoughts raced; Could it be whatever they're putting in the bacon? Is this why they've been pushing flu shots everywhere you look? Is this the majority which is on daily doses of SSRI's? How can I protect myself?
In the years to come, things slowly progressed in a dangerous direction. Even most of those who were yet to be effected by this plague were unaware of the danger all around them. These zombies could talk, and even text (though rarely could they spell). They could drive cars (poorly). Many of them could even hold down their jobs, though every day they seemed to be less capable of completing their duties. Most of them had lost their sense of humor, as well as their polite nature. Everything they did and said was transparent and saddening. It seemed that their only interest was killing and breeding.
I tried very hard to ignore this fear, and to quell the judgment I felt towards these weakened specimen. I resorted to drink, television, and pharmaceutical drugs, thinking it would be better to ignore the problem or die trying. I was incapable of blinding myself to the problem.
Waking from the haze, I came to a realization. I would have no choice, if I wanted to survive, but to pretend. Pretend that I am one of them, pretend I'm a killer, pretend I'm not human anymore.
I haven't lost what I was, but I am always reminded of the true differences between me and them; when I hear their children walking to school, when their flood lights shine through my bedroom curtains, when their cars or trucks are idling for what seems like forever, when I think about what they live off of, when I hear their moans and cries for help (but only make you prey when you move to assist).
I will not, must not, lose myself to this sickness.
Finally, today, I decided to take the pretense as far as my remaining energy would allow. I tried to make my image into what I see inside of them, I tried to be a mirror.
It seems as though they are easily fooled, at least on this day of all days.
I look forward to a release from this necessity, as well as a mass extinction. Who am I to decide what the future holds.