I turned to look out the bedroom window outside our apartment window. As I saw our two young children, staggering toward my husband, Russell from behind him in the moonlight. "Look out, Russell! The children, behind you!" I screamed my head off.
I knew something was different about them. Because they didn't look like themselves. They seemed to appear to be a little…undead! Staggering toward my husband, the two children were staggering and outstretched their arms in front of themselves. Groaning and bloody running down their chins, I could tell our children needed some medical attention, fast!
Dropping the bones to the ground, next to the tree in our front yard, I gasped and turned away from watching my children brutally attack my husband from behind him, As they quickly grabbed hold of Russell's arms. And taking a bite out of them!
I ducked below the bedroom window and cried from disgust. "If only the children would take their medicine!" I thought, to myself. As I covered my ears. To block out the screaming coming from my husband. While Mark and Valentino were feeding on him. "Babe! Help me!" I heard Russell cry in defense.
I slowly raised back up from the windowsill and peered out the front yard. Mark and Valentino were hungry, eating at Russell's arms. "Just kill me now, babes!" yelled Russell at the top of his voice, angrily. "No! They're taking me down, love! Help me, now!" Russell demanded.
But I was so scared of not knowing what to do! I couldn't help but watch in horror as our two children hungrily devoured Russell, by feeding on his arms. Like they were crispy, chicken legs or something crunchy.
"No! Don't eat my husband!" I shouted to the kids. But I don't think they could hear me. I slowly got to my feet. I hurriedly walked toward the table by our waterbed. I picked up the red phone off the receiver. I started to call the police.
But as I put the phone receiver to my right ear, I couldn't get a signal. The phone was dead! And my family is all in mortal danger! Hearing my husband scream bloody murder, was not what my ears wanted to hear.
I couldn't look away from the window, as Mark and Valentino were eating on my husband's legs, now. It was so disgusting to watch. I had to do something to stop the kids from eating my husband, until there is nothing left of him.
I remembered from horror literature I had read in high school; zombies don't like bright lights or burning fire. So, I quickly walked to my dresser drawer next to my closet in our bedroom. Opened the drawer and pulled out a silver lighter fluid.
I opened it up and sparked the lighter. It still had flames coming out of it. "This should stop them," I said, closing the lid to the silver lighter. I put in my pajama robes. Got on my pink house slippers. And quickly hurried out of the bedroom.
Walking out of the apartment door, I only saw my husband, who was wounded. Lying next to the tree in the front yard of our apartment. Grabbing hold of the silver lighter out of my pocket, I showed the flames still burning brightly to my husband.
"Where did our children go?" I asked, patiently. But my husband was too brutally wounded to even care to respond to me. I looked at him. His arms and legs were chewed to bites. Blood stained everywhere on his shirt and pants he wore.
"It's important you tell what happened to our children," I continued, trying to keep my husband from passing out.
But Russell wasn't giving me any attention. He was dreary and passed out cold, resting by the big apple tree in our front yard.
Okay. It was up to me. I had to stop the zombies getting whatever they wanted. Or fail trying to survive what is left of my existence.