Naomie

I did not enjoy seeing my professor's dead grandma smack face first on a window. Let me back up a bit. Firstly, i am Naomie. My friends call me Yo, me! or plain ol' Naomie (which i prefer). This happened on the most inconveniet of times. So, I had my head down and resting on my desk in my classroom in our school. The weathef was messed up (like my feelings, joke). It was boiling hot to the point that i had a horrible migraine and my body was uncannily sticky with perspiration. But the skies were so grey you would have thought a hurricane was gonna lash out and wipe out the entire north of America. It was also windy, like gale force winds, but it still baked each and everyone of us alive. Wht was worse was that i was in a classroom with twenty five othef teenagers who sweat buckets. So, the entire classroom was damp (the floor was slick with moisture, i actually slipped earlier) and it smelled horribly of body odour and rubber basketballs. We had to wait for our professor (who was late as usual). I tried to close my eyes and block out all the outside noise. But there was one particulat noise that got me. It was like someone smacked their face right on the window next to me. I mean who smacks their faces on windows. So i looked and nearly screamed. 

Someone was staring at me and i didn't like it. Not one bit. Because the being that was staring straight at me had sagging grey and brown skin, congealed blood cakes on its entire body and only one eye. Zombies. Quite obvious. But what struck me was that it just stared at me, breathing as if tired and... hungry.

"Holy cow." I said as i leaned forward to see it clearly. 

Then it threw its body back, as if about to laugh hysterically and them slammed it on the glass again, spraying grey and red goo on the clean windows. I was too much dumbstruck at the sight that i havent noticed the girls in the classroom were screaming like a bunch of deranged chimpanzees times two. Some of the boys were laughing, some where also yelling. Others pretty much acted like asses. 

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

One tall but lanky boy with blond hair like corn walked over to the window where the zombie kept banging its face, bent down a bit and tapped the glass. 

"Thats a neat costume." He said, keeping one hand in his slacks pocket.

"Gaaaaahhhhhh!" Replied the zombie. 

He laughed and looked back at his friends, who looked at him then pointed at the panicking girls.

I just sat there, like an idiot, wondering if it was true. The zombie kept slamming its already collapsing face on the now disgustingly ruined window. I was pretty sure there was a face mark on it. But then the glass cracked and one last smack of its face sent the glass pieces raining towards me. I scurried back but he foot of my chair caught on a slightly uneven tile. The zombie tumbled in and caused everyone to scream. It was only half way in and it just stayed there, hanging, as if finally dead. Grey fluid dripped from its head down to the perfectly clean tiles. 

"What do we do?" Someone yelled. 

The zombie raised its body. It tried to grab for me with its withered arms. Cuts decorated its already "decorated" face. On particulary huge shard of glass stabbed right through it on remaining eye, severing it in half. I froze as it deperately tried to reach for me. As if it couldnt have gotten worse, the things torso snapped in half and fell on the floor with a mighty THUMP! More screaming. Goo shot out of it in an obvious circle. It flapped its pathetic arms and crawles towards me. I panicked and kicked its head (which strangely had dark thin strands of long-ish hair). My shoe sunk it as it broke through the fragile head. In horror, i pulled my foot out quick as a fox causing year old brain broth to pour out of the shoe tip shaped hole on the zombies cranium. Luckily my foot came out clean except fot bits of flakes. The smell got me next. I cant even describe it. It was almost like rotten meat left in a jar of sewer water then dried with a blow drier only to be left in a septic tank (haha, as if i have ever smelled that before. But thats how i imagine its smell) i gagged and cupped my mouth. But that blow to the head mustve killed the zombie because it stopped moving. The head had come off and lolled sidways to stare at me. 

"Everything's okay!" Yelled our horrified and horriflying late professor. 

We turned to look ar him by the doorway, where he stood panting and drenched in sweat. More hysteric kids.