My so-called 'Death'

Everyone has a story to tell, differently biotic or not. Us, zombies, seem to have more to tell. Our life stories and our 'non-life' stories. Even our deaths. Although, our stories wouldn't seem so long if we could talk at a normal speed. My story is neither long, nor pretty. It won't give you butterflies, and it's not a romance. But if your as curious as I was, this story will have you at the edge of your seat. Not a fact that I am particularly proud of.

I was fifteen. Eagerly awaiting my sixteenth birthday. I'd had my permit for six months. Driving wasn't that bad when you got passed the stress of screwing up. Besides, having loving parents and great friends there with you, it helps a lot. I had never had the kinds of friends that stabbed you in the back. With my friends, there never was any doubt. I was never the kind of kid who was mean unnecessarily. I was never in the group of girls who were mean to everybody, and acted like sluts around the guys. I also had a lot of guy friends. They felt like brothers, and they treated me like their sister. Protected me. They would never let anything happen to me. It was too bad that they weren't there the eve of my sweet sixteenth.

I had always been a great swimmer. My dad taught me when I was very little, in the pool of our apartment complex. I caught on quickly. While my school was in a small town, it wasn't small enough to not have a competitive swimming team. Besides football, basketball and volleyball, swimming was a big deal to my little town.

There had been some crime in our area around that time. There had been sightings of a supposed serial killer in or around town. Police had a warrant for his arrest, but he was slippery. The local police had been notified, but they had no leads of his whereabouts.

My birthday had fallen on a Saturday that year. I saw it as a good omen.

I always rode the bus home. But I was ecstatic to have known that after the weekend, I would no longer have to ride the cramped bus. But this Friday, I had stayed after school to make up some assignments. My parents were always on my back about missing assignments, so I tried to knock a few out that day. My school had no late busses, so by the time I was finished, it was considerably dark out. I had been running late that morning, forgetting my cell phone in the process. It wasn't that long of a walk home, and I didn't mind. In November, the sun set quickly. It was almost completely dark by the time I was half way home. Having my headphones on, listening to one of my favorite bands, I almost didn't hear the white van pull up next to me. I almost didn't hear the questionable looking man offer me a ride. I quickly declined his offer. Knowing enough about safety since I was a kid to protect myself even then, years later. The man didn't seem to appreciate my answer.

"Come on, baby. I know you must be tired. Who knows how long you have been walking." Slightly annoyed, I laced my answer with a bit more venom than intended.

"No thank you, sir. I haven't been walking that long. I don't mind." I started walking faster. Hoping he'd get my point that I didn't want a ride.

He didn't.

He pulled his truck around to stop perpendicular to me. Cutting off my path. By now I was getting a little nervous. I had only a little experience in fighting. I could probably get the chance to run away if I kicked him in the groin, or shoved his nose into his brain, but not if he got the upper hand first.

By now he was out of his truck, I was almost sprinting, trying to get around his truck without having to get anywhere near him. But he was fast. He was around to the other side of the truck before I had cleared it. He caught me around the waist. Restraining the use of my arms, cutting off chances of defense. I struggled, using my legs to kick anything I could. I only managed to land a blow on his foot, but it didn't seem to phase him. The man effortlessly dragged me towards his truck. I'll admit, I had some muscle, due to swimming, but this man was lethal. Absolutely fit. It was no wonder how easily he caught up to me and forced me to the back of his van. The memories get fuzzy from here, but I know that he had hit me in the back of the head. Knocking me out cold. While falling into unconsciousness, I vaguely remember being placed in the back of the van.

I do not think I was out for very long. We were in the woods. He was standing over me, looking smug. I almost reached up and slapped that smug smile from his face. Almost did, but I didn't.

I knew he was the serial killer people had been seeing in the area. It was obvious. I also knew from past newspaper articles that he liked he victims awake when he was killing them. But to my relief, none of the articles had said he liked to rape his victims first.

Nobody knew any murderer's motive for killing people, but this man's was especially useless. He didn't even try to make a game out of it. He just killed. The man brought a knife out his pocket. I knew what was coming next. To brace myself, I closed my eyes. I could not fight back even if I had wanted to. No feeling in my body had returned. And it wouldn't.

It still hasn't.