RomeroPilato's Blog (17)

They tell me I’m dead. The walking, stalking, living dead. But that’s a misnomer. Yes, my pulse no longer carries a beat. And my lungs no longer function. But I’m NOT dead. Not in the absolute definition of the word: meaning without life.  In fact, I am bursting with life.   

I find it fascinating how life works.  Even after death. I’ve been dead for a long time, yet I still walk. I still talk, and most certainly, I still hunger. I hunger not just for the taste of warm flesh, but also…

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(This story contains sensitive subject matter)

 

Three days ago Imogen celebrated her fourteenth birthday.  Today will be her deathday.  A death caused by her own hands.  She's attempted suicide twice before and hopes the third time will be the charm.   She

is on her bed writing her suicide note.



Why would someone so young, blessed with an extraordinarily creative mind , a compassionate

loving heart and has a father that loves her more than life itself…

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Snow is falling on the ground and it's inhumanely cold. There's not soul

to be seen outside.   Not even the soulless known as the living dead

are walking around.  One of the undead have taken refuge in a house on

the edge of suburbia.  The house is not spectacular but its above

standard.  The undead man curiously walks through the place room by

room.



After going through most of the house the undead man ends up in the basement.  It bears an uncanny resemblance… Continue

(Warning: contains sensitive subject matter and strong language)

How did the end begin? The end of the world as we knew it. Some say that the end was a virulent bug that escaped out of some random research facility. Others say that the end was something in the water or rage inducing waves emitted from cell phones. And then there are those that would swear

that the end was a scathing punishment from God. But I know the…

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The dead have no rights
The thought of it keeps a zombie up nights :(

Alan Nesmith is hungry. In fact, he is STARVING. So are his sons and

daughters. They are starving for food, starving for heat, starving for

medical aid and starving for hope. The past eighteen months have been

nothing but pure hell on Earth for the Nesmith family and literally

every other family out there. The legions of the dead have decimated all

four corners of the globe. Their numbers run close to a billion, while

the human race has dwindled down to a couple of… Continue

(Warning: contains sensitive subject matter and strong language)



They say suicide is sinful. They say it’s immoral. That killing yourself is the coward’s way out. But who are they to say what they say? Who is to say that they’re right and those who believe otherwise are wrong? Is it really wrong to kill yourself? Is it still wrong to murder yourself even when you’re already dead?



That was my dilemma for a while. Until some common sense kicked in and said to me, “I’m dead!… Continue

It’s scary how far the stench of death can travel
One whiff and your sensory faculties begin to unravel
The dead no longer fear the finality of a gravedigger's shovel
As they can now put feet to ground and stumble
While the hearts of hope proceed to crumble
The ravaging rank odor of unbearable rot
Will no longer be contained underneath a burial plot
As the reanimated spill into every refuge we got
Gorging on our flesh like boiled meat in a pot

I live in a world where those who have perished
Returned and eaten the bodies of those who I’ve cherished
My once lustrous soul has become terribly tarnished
As my hopes for a better tomorrow have tragically vanished

You humans call us rotten. You call us disgusting. You call us monsters. But I ask you? If we are monsters, then what the hell are you?!!!



You hunt just like we do. You hurt, you maim...you kill. And you don’t kill in the name of nature like us. You kill because you can. You kill even when it's not part of the plan. You murder for greed, for sex, for power. Your kind will keep on slaughtering 'til your final hour. You brand us cannibals. But you savagely consume you own too. You may… Continue

For the last year I’ve spent many of my days watching so many people die. And they didn’t die well. Their demises have been slow, brutal and heartbreakingly excruciating.



Today was no exception.



There I stood in the pummeling pouring rain, in the middle of a large subway car yard transfixed by the searing sight of a family of three fighting for their lives. My blood boiled as I witnessed death manifested in the reanimated form of a shambling shell of what used to be a… Continue

I just can’t stop eating. God help me I can’t. No matter what I do. No matter how hard I wish. No matter how much I pray. Nothing can prevent me from gorging. And then…purging. It’s a sick, sad cycle that never ends. What goes down, comes back up. I ‘m plagued with the constant urge to purge. Not just the digested food in my stomach but the pain in my head, the pangs in my heart and the heaviness in my soul.



Unfortunately, the only thing I’m able to get out of my shoddy system is… Continue

It is early morning and I’m staring outside a window. I see that Spring is coming. It makes me sad. There’s burgeoning beauty outside and I can’t truly savor it.



Because I’m stuck in here. Trapped within this formidable four walls. I always hated school. Especially high school. When I say that I hated school I don’t mean I loathed the enlightening and enriching process of academic education. I hated the sickening social scene, the crushing conformity, the callous cliques and the… Continue

Well...I'm not dead. I'm still alive. Still writing, still wanting. Desperately wanting my piece of peace. Which I'm not going to get anytime soon. What I have gotten recently though is sanctuary-in the form of a high school turned rescue shelter. I’m here because I got literally sick of being in that shitty, sub zero degrees shack . The reason I stayed there as long was a) I became very lazy. And b) during the last few weeks the zombie threat around me was too great to venture far out. Their… Continue

My writing days are just about done. This will be my last entry. For now, anyway. No, I haven't lost the compulsion to scribe the stuff from my soul. Or unable to recover from a devastating collision into a writer's block. I will no longer be writing because very soon I will have nothing to write with. At this point in time, I am putting thoughts to paper using a pencil that's nearly useless - worn down to the nub.



I did have another pencil, but I lost it during a brutal struggle… Continue

It's been two weeks since I relieved my Grace from her needless suffering. And I still can't move past the agony of what I've done, although I had no choice. I'm violently writhing in a world of pure pain. I wish there was someone would relieve me of my suffering. I'd do it myself but in the end, I know I'll pussy out. There was one time I did gain the nerve to go all the way through with blowing my head off. The only reason my cranium is still intact is because when I pulled the trigger… Continue

I went outside earlier today to procure some badly needed supplies. When I went out into the open, it wasn't just the living dead that haunted me. A ghost from the past appeared out of nowhere to spook me. Grace was the ghost's name. Grace was my ex-girlfriend. I considered her for a long time to be the most beautiful creature that God ever created. Grace was truly something special inside and out.



I spent some of the best years of my life with her. Unfortunately, my wonderful thing… Continue