So, I see myself as a nurse who now finds herself a zombie, only I still have my wits about me. My only big problem is I can't remember my past. I know I have had children because I have the c-section scar. How many kids? A husband? Brothers and sisters? I have no idea. I have this constant nag inside my soul about kids, family and loved ones. I can't put my finger on any memories and that haunts me.
I'm kind of in denial of my circumstance because I still have empathy and feelings for others. My mind isn't scrambled like so many other zombies, but I have an uncontrolled desire to eat brains. I can't kill people because I still have my mind and emotions still intact. So me and a group of other zombies who have their mind intact visit the morgue in the hospital and dine on dead leftovers of people who were once alive. And let me tell you, brains are yummy! We work together as a team to be able to get the food we need so badly.
We have a special way finding other zombies like ourselves. The "brains intact" zombie will be sloughing around trying to act like one of the may other "brain dead" zombies and will pick up a stick and draw two happy face eyes in the dirt or sand. Then another zombie with brains will pick up the stick and draw the smile part of the happy face. This is the only secret way we know one another. I don't know who started it, but because we have our brains intact, we can make happy faces in the sand. This is a secret because when we are in the presence of other zombies, we have to act like them; moving around with limps and looking zoned out. If we are found out, we will surely be consumed!
I continue my work as a nurse in the hospital always in fear that the "normal people" will find out what I really am. I'm living my other life pretending to be a complete brain-dead zombie. I'm in the middle of two worlds and right now I only know a handful of people like me.
Let's see, I'm around 40 years old, a regular looking person. I have a non-confronting personality. I'm really gullible and I believe everything I hear. I'm a jumpy person who is easily scared. I love people, animals and even insects. I have all these same characteristics even though I'm a zombie.
I have a festering wound on my leg where I was bitten and it seems to be getting worse each day. My body isn't healing; it seems to be deteriorating. The wound is something I have to hide from the "normal people. "
The last thing I can remember is finding myself lying on the floor. My head is so heavy and foggy. What happened to me? I can hear noises in the other room, but I can't make out what the noise is. I turn over to sit up and my head is spinning so I sit down for a few seconds. What is that sound? It's like a muffled moan of some sort and it seems there are multiple distinct individual sounds. I feel so weak in my limbs and dizzy in my head. I can't get it together to stand so I groggily start to crawl across the room. I sneak closer and close the door, and I pause. I can hear subtle moans and I hear quiet talking. What is being said? I hear a lady talking to a man in whispers...she's speaking quickly and quietly like she's scared. The man replies with quizzical questions. I gather a little more strength and slowly peak around the corner. In the room there are a group of about four people lying on the floor, their body slow with little movement. This is where the moaning sounds are coming from. Across the room are a man and woman huddled in a corner. In my mind I'm thinking, "What the hell is going on? You people alright?" The lady motions for me to come over and puts her finger to her lip to tell me to be quiet. I quietly crawl through the dusky room to the man and woman. A feeling of fear and dread sneak up into my throat as the lady crouching on the floor pulls her shirt sleeve up to show a horrible skin wound. She tells me she's been bitten. The man pulled up his shirt showing a large torn chunk of skin still slowly oozing blood on his side. They both looked stunned and confused like myself. They asked me if I have a wound. Do I? I pulled at my shirt and sleeves frantically. Nothing. I then pulled on my right pant leg and there it was. It looked like I had been bitten on my calf, but there was no pain. What on earth? I managed to squeak out, "Why are we here and what happened? I can't remember anything. What's going on?"
