Zombie Outbreak in Small-Town Ontario as Chronicled in the Diary of a Teenaged Girl with a Hopeless Crush

By: Mike Richardson-Bryan

Dear diary,

God, nothing EVER happens around here. What does it say about my life when the highlight of my weekend is helping mom clean out the camper? Yeccchhh!

Dear diary,

Big news! Jason sat next to me at assembly today. I was so excited, I accidentally inhaled my gum and blacked out. STUPID! By the time I came to, Jason was gone, lured away by Jasmine AGAIN. Grrr!!! One of these days, she’s gonna get what’s coming to her.

Dear diary,

Went to another lame Battle of the Bands last night. One of the bands featured three original members of Loverboy, and they were barely halfway through their first song when their drummer went off his nut and attacked the judges (I think he actually bit one of them, too). They still won, though, which tells you something about the music scene in Ontario these days.

Dear diary,

There’s some kind of bug going around and it’s wicked bad. I sure hope it’s not that chicken flu that’s supposed to destroy mankind, unless of course it spares me and Jason and afterwards we get married and set out to repopulate the earth. In that case, bring it on!

Dear diary,

There was a big fight at the ringette game last night. It must’ve been ugly, ’cause apparently a lot of people got bitten and a few of them are still missing (including Mrs. Petty, my old home economics teacher, who I actually liked, although she wasn’t much of a teacher). The game was called, which is too bad for the ringette girls, who are having their winningest season ever. Go, Fightin’ Barn Owls!

Dear diary,

It seems like everybody’s got that bug that’s going around. On the bright side, so many kids are home sick that history class is down to just me and Jason (oh, and Mitchell, that geek with the lazy eye, but he doesn’t count), so we’re practically study buddies now. He even asked to borrow a pencil today! Unfortunately, I accidentally inhaled my gum and blacked out again. STUPID!

Dear diary,

Things are getting weird around here. People are going missing all over the place and a bunch of torsos turned up outside of town. The cops say it’s rowdy teenagers, but that’s what they say every time a window is broken or a car is rolled and set on fire or a family is attacked in their own home and eaten alive. Okay, so we did roll and burn that car that time, but it was Halloween, and besides it was only a Geo, so what’s the biggie? Stupid Nazis.

Dear diary,

My prom dress is finally done. It’s an explosion of plum satin with the biggest, puffiest sleeves you’ve ever seen and a TON of lace. And I made it myself! I guess I learned something in Mrs. Petty’s class after all. I sure hope they find the rest of her someday. Now all I need is a date. Fingers crossed!

Dear diary,

I have a date for the prom. No, it’s not Jason (big surprise). It’s Mitchell. I know, I know, but time was running out, and a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do, right? I just have to remember to dance real close so I don’t end up staring at that wonky eye all night.

Dear diary,

The prom was awesome! The music was good, the gym looked great (SO MUCH BUNTING), and as for the dancing…HOLY CRAP, THAT LAZY-EYED GEEK CAN DANCE! We tore up the floor like it was Dance Dance Revolution on bathtub meth! Before I knew it, my shiny new dress was soaked with sweat and my hair and make-up were such a mess that I looked like Tammy Faye Bakker after a mop beating, but I didn’t care. In fact, I was having so much fun that when Mitch leaned in to plant a wet one on me, I just cocked my head and let come what may.

But then the zombies attacked. Yes, dear diary, actual zombies, a shambling horde of them, intent on gnawing the flesh from our bones. What a buzz killer.

Everybody ran for their lives. Me and Mitch ended up barricaded in the nurse’s office with Jason and Jasmine. We thought we were safe, but then Jasmine went all zombie on us (the selfish skank got bit back in the gym and didn’t tell anyone) and we had to finish her. Jason tried to do it, but he chickened out. In fact, HE SOBBED LIKE A LITTLE GIRL. I had to do it myself, and believe me, I killed the stuffing out of her. It didn’t feel as good as I thought it would, to tell you the truth, but I sure wasn’t complaining, either.

We were finally saved by the ringette girls. Just before dawn, they swooped in with nail-studded ringette sticks in hand and cleaned house, busting zombies left, right, and centre. I swear, if they don’t win at least their division this year, then there is no God.

Afterwards, me and Mitch slipped away and did it in the janitor’s closet. Yes, DID IT. And take it from me, dancing isn’t the only thing he does with gusto.

So much for high school. I can’t exactly say these were the best days of my life, but the idea that they’re over forever definitely leaves me a little sad. I guess that’s what growing up feels like.

Now look out, community college, ’cause here I come!

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