Jason had this penthouse apartment that was centrally located in Beverly Hills.
He was incredibly clean, but in an overwhelming kind of way.
The carpet and stuff were spotless, the cabinets were plastic, and the paint was not chipping. I felt like I was in a Doctor’s office waiting room.
He was snoring loudly, and just at the right moment he opened his eyes.
“Ha! You are dead! This is a dream, right?”
I felt a bit offended, as I was obviously the one snoring.
“No, no!” He pointed at the clock. “It’s 4AM!” (Lucky number 8!).
“You’re a zombie! You’re dead and you’re dreaming!”
“I’m a zombie, alright!” I yawned and started to hack up zombie gore.
“Watch out!” He screamed and jumped out of the bed.
“All right, you monster! I’m dead and I’m dreaming! I’m dead and I’m dreaming!”
He chased me around the room.
“You’re not dead, you’re a zombie! You’re a zombie, that’s just what you are, a zombie, so it’s a dream!” He threw up his hands. “You can’t win!”
“I can’t win, yeah? That’s right, I can’t win. That’s my luck, ha-ha!”
I hope you like midnight horror flicks.” His face crinkled with confusion; the zombies smile that I was always afraid of flashing on.
“Well I didn’t say I was a horror movie person. Oh, that’s right, but you said, I’m dead and I’m dreaming, so that’s a horror movie, right?”
I thought about it.
“Okay, I guess it’s more like…like if a zombie comes to my door…”
“…and it’s not a horror movie?”
“Yeah. It’s just a regular knock at my door.”
“OK, I guess it is a horror movie.”
“Yup.”
“So are you telling me, I’m dreaming?”
“I’m telling you, it’s just a regular knock at your door.”
He hugged me and ran away from the door.
“Oh, no! Zombies are at the door, oh no!”
I joined him and kept chasing the zombie until Jason growled in my ear, “Cristina, I’m the last of my family! I have to protect my kingdom! This is my job! You, you are not my wife! That’s over and done! All that you are, is a woman! You are not a child! I don’t know where you come from, but I’m not marrying you!
I don’t know who you are!”
“Jason, you can’t be an emperor! You’re a zombie, not an emperor. You’re dead and you’re dreaming! This is a dream! Wake up!”
“This is not a dream, this is real life. And you’re not my wife! You’re just a woman!”
“Are you threatening to kill me? If you do I am going to-“
“Cristina, you’re not my wife!”
“No! Stop it, stop it!” I ran back to the bed and crawled under the covers. Jason stood in the doorway of the bedroom with his back to the door, and looked down at me. He was clenching his fists.
“Don’t you dare.”
His back was turned to me, but I could hear him as I lay there.
“If I did, what would happen to you?”
“I don’t know.”
“You would be in the woods. You would be alone, never to find another person.”
“Maybe.”
“No, you wouldn’t be alone. You would have someone.”
“No.”
“Don’t you want someone, Cristina?”
“I’m not a zombie! I can’t just turn into a zombie! You know, don’t you, that a zombie’s life is like a terrible TV soap opera? We’re all dead and we have to live through some very horrible circumstances in order to get back to our old life. That’s what a zombie is.”
“That’s not you, that’s just a movie! You are a real person. And you’re very scared.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Of zombies? Of living alone, of the world going to hell in a hand basket? Of waking up dead and never having a normal day, ever? Of living in a world of nasty zombies?”
“Yes.”
“No you’re not. You’re scared. You’re a person, and you’re scared. You have nothing to be scared of.”
“But you have plenty to be scared of!”
“And I’m scared too.”
“Yes. But the situation is different than yours.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I don’t either. But I know what I saw. I saw your face. You know that? When I turned around and saw you lying there, and the light from the candle was shining on you. I saw your face.”
“You saw what?”
“I saw the fear in your eyes, Cristina. I saw the fear. I saw the fear that a person feels when he looks at the face of someone who could have just turned into a zombie. And I also saw the fear that a person feels when he’s about to be killed by a zombie.”
Jason pointed at the door. “Cristina, I don’t want to hurt you. I want to help you. I want to fix all of this. I am the one that can fix it. Please, come out and help me. Let’s stop this!”
“That’s why I’m under the covers, you maniac.”
“I know.”
“I’d come out for you if I could.”
Jason laughed.
“Maybe next time.”
“One time won’t do any good.”
“I just need a minute, and then we can fix this.”
“What can we do?”
“I don’t know.”
I felt Jason standing in front of the door, looking at me. He was gripping the door frame with both hands and leaning over it.
“How much do you want this, huh?”
“I don’t want this.”
“Then what are you here for?”
“I don’t know!”
“If you don’t want this, you don’t want anything.”
“You’re just a crazy guy!”
“Maybe I am. I don’t know what to do.”
“You should just go away.”
“How could I do that?”
“Go to bed.”
“I can’t sleep without you.”
“What do you want from me? What’s in it for me?”
“You don’t know?”
“No.”
“Just tell me what you want. Tell me, because you can’t hide anything from me, because I already know everything.”
“I don’t know. Something. I just want you. I want to be with you. I want to be your man. I don’t want to be alone.”
“Why won’t you come out, man? I can’t sleep, I need your help.”
“Help me?”
“Help me.”
“You are mad.”
“No, I’m not!”
“You want me to help you kill yourself.”
“No, I don’t.”
“I’m not stupid. I’m not blind. You want me to kill you, Cristina. You want me to feed you my human flesh.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I saw you last night. You wanted me to feed you my human flesh.”
“You’re crazy.”
“No, I’m not. I’m just tired of seeing you in your pajamas.”
“You’re crazy.”
“I’m not crazy.”
“Oh, I know you are. I know you are.”
“I am not!”
“You are. You are totally crazy.”
“I am not crazy.”
“I know you are, Cristina. You are crazy.”
“You’re crazy.”
“No, I’m not. You are.”
“I am not crazy!”
“Yes, you are.”
“No, I’m not.”
“I can hear you breathing in your sleep.”
“I am not sleeping! You’re crazy!”
“You’re totally crazy.”
“What are you doing, here? You’re crazy.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You are, Cristina. You’re crazy.”
“I’m not crazy!”
“You are, Cristina. You’re crazy. You’re crazy.”
I heard the footsteps coming down the stairs. They were slowly and carefully walking down the stairs. They were at least 6 feet tall, if not more.
There was a creaking sound as they approached the door. I didn’t have to open the door to know who it was. I looked down at the floor and then back up. It was Jason. He had changed his clothes and put on a black tee shirt with a skull and crossbones on it and a pair of camo shorts. He was still wearing his tactical pants and boots, with two nightsticks that matched the tee shirt. He was still holding a small dagger, one of the weapons that he had brought with him. He had the rope in his hand, too. He didn’t look happy at all.
I opened the door and Jason stepped in.
“You did this.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I know everything. I saw you. I watched you. I watched you feed her your human flesh. I saw the look on her face. She was disgusted, but she liked it. I watched you fuck her, twice. You came twice in her. Then she woke up. She opened her eyes, and smiled at you. She looked you straight in the eye and said, ‘I liked it.’ You can’t deny it. She is mad.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not crazy.”
“You are. You’re totally crazy.”
“I’m not crazy.”
“You are, Cristina. You’re crazy. You’re crazy.”
I backed up against the wall. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
:: 01.27.2021 ::
E.P. Robles | Poetry 
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