Five things not in this story.

"Well this is boring," I say tapping the keys idly and listening to the clicks.

The laptop wobbles on my knees, unstable and heavier than I'll admit; every now and then Tyler lunges as if to catch it from a fall it never makes. And each time I bat his hand away with a tut. If I can engage in high speed chases, whilst being accosted by a writer, I sure as anything can use a laptop and not break it.

"Has it ever occurred to anyone that if we did these tasks when Mia asked we'd never be locked in the kitchen?" Braelyn the obvious pauses with her knife in the air. If it were anyone else I'd worry about the possibility of her missing the cucumber and slicing a finger. As it is, I stop tapping the keys and raise a brow. It's not worth an answer.

"So, aside from this huge string of nonsense here," Tyler gestures to the screen, "you know you've spelt misapprehension wrong, right?"

"Not helping." I sigh as I search and replace it. "We're zombie down, don't make me take you down too."

He purses hips lips, hands held behind his back, and nods. I'm not sure how I would go about taking him down to the state Adam is in, what with the glitter poisoning, but I could darn well give it a shot. And he knows it. Except either he can't resist another shot or he has short term memory loss.

"Irritate is spelt with and i," he says, leaning forward and covering my neck with the warmth of his breath as I type. "And it's "he and I" instead of that."

"If you're so up on language why don't you type?" I snap, flustered into saying something I immediately see as part of his plan. His eyes light up as he parts his lips into a smile.  Tyler can be just as much as a control freak as me sometimes.

"Finally." He snatches the laptop from my legs, sliding it to his as he sits. After a moment he scoots up beside me. To rub the victory in, no doubt, by letting me watch. "Now, let's start again because all of this stuff? Far too believable. You need some eccentricity."

"I'm not eccentric at all," Braelyn calls over her should as she deposits cucumber into the pan. Much to my disappointed surprise she has all ten digits still.

"You will be after I'm finished." He smiles, hitting the keys like he's playing a church organ. Even though the keys are clacking and thudding, he types surprisingly fast. "Alright. Number one? Raye is allergic to kiwi fruit and underwater hockey sticks. They bring her out in a rash."

"Ew." I wrinkle my nose. "No they don't."

"Do," he says. "And Braelyn? Well she likes to wear lavender dresses on a full moon only. Can't wear them apart from that."

"Wait-" Braelyn turns around, waving her wooden spoon.

"Number three and four," Tyler booms merrily over her voice. "Adam sleeps in a kimono and eats raw broccoli for breakfast."

"That's not even funny. Broccoli gives him nightmares." Braelyn's eyes are wide, as if letting in all the concern they can, but now it's not just Tyler ignoring her. I don't mean to, but I tend to oppose whatever she stands for out of principle. Everyone has to have a nemesis.

"What's five?" I lightly touch Tyler's elbow. He nods enthusiastically, still typing.

"Sometimes." He glances at me, and the cursor flickers on the screen in anticipation. "Often, you like to buy the dented packets from shops because you feel like they must be lonely."

I bite my lip, thankful Braelyn can't see my face and the colour that rises to my cheeks as he types. I hate somebody knowing me so well they can say the truest thing at a moment's notice. He knows me better than my anyone can, I think, and sometimes he likes to flaunt it.

"You forgot yourself." The pans clang as Braelyn chucks them in the sink. She's so innocent sometimes. So unsuspecting, unlike me. Tyler would do anything to hide his past and his secrets. This is just one tiny pebble of an example.

"Ha," Tyler says without much humour. "I guess I'm just a mystery."

What does Braelyn want to be?

The clicking of the pages as I flip through the book, that's the only noise to break the afternoon calm. I love the scent that wafts off the pages. I'm thankful for the slight breeze against my cheek. It's welcome in this room, a place with no free air.

"See anything in there you like?" Adam peers over the rim of his spectacles. Even with his inquisitive stare it's hard to take him seriously. I guess lounging against the floor whilst reading the paper can do that to a guy.  Also, his hair cut. I always find people who look like they've fallen through a shrubbery comical.

"Loads," I say. He nods, a strand of his hair flops forward over his face.  Even his hair is dying in this heat. "One advert has a girl drinking a mimosa. I'd love one of those."

"Do you even know what a mimosa is?" Raye says, capping the glue stick. Her hair shines, metallic in the falling light. Even at the end of a long day she is full of colour, even as the sun goes down. I resist the urge to throw something at her as she smiles sweetly. When Raye does anything sweetly it's the exact opposite.

"I don't need to. Just like the way it sounds." I sniff and sit up.  "Something's burning."

"No. It's fine." Tyler's hand waves a jar from the fridge in my direction. It retracts and he goes back to his search. There's a clatter and several apples tumble out. "I'm practicing."

"I want to be able to eat it when you're done," Raye calls, liberally spreading glitter on the paper she's fully glued up.  "Can't you practice being a chef and not burn food?"

"I'm not sure. Can you practice being an archaeologist whilst lounging across the sofa and making a card?"

"It's for Mia," Raye snaps. "And you'll all be thanking me later when she forgets about this whole "what do you want to be when you're older" thing."

"I'm old anyway," Adam says, wrestling with his paper. "Hardly seems worth the effort."

"You'll get older." I set down the "top 100 jobs of 2010" book on the floor with a clunk. Really, the coffee table would be a better storage place but I'm not so certain Raye hasn't accidentally lathered glue on the rest of the surface.

"One would hope. But I'll be none the wiser if I'm still on the floor reading this newspaper in ten years." Adam glances at the book, red against the blue of the carpet, and then back to his paper. He looks like he wants to say something more but can't find the words. Probably something about where I've put it. Whatever. If he's such a book lover he can care for it. I'm reasonably sure Mia only gave it to us as a joke, a joke nobody laughed at.

"Don't be so harsh on yourself," I say to Adam. Lowering my voice, I lean forward to flick the top corner of his paper."I'm sure you'll at least get to the business section by Monday."

"Very humorous," Adam says in a flat tone. "And perhaps by then you'll have figured out what you want to do?"

"Don't count on it," I say, folding my arms. It's not that I don't want to figure it out, it's not. I just don't think there's much point. My life is here now and I like it. I should live for today and not for a future I may never have.

An important request.

Dear other characters in Mia's head,

Saluations! Firstly I just wanted to say that because we almost never speak apart from awkward moment in the corridor when we're passing each other on the way to the bathroom, and that's just awkward and usually I try not to catch anyone's eye. Literally and metaphorically because eyes are so squishy and, dead or undead, you guys should try to keep it to yourself.

Anyhow. Next is a kind request from your local neighbourhood future girl, me. I'll jump right in and say it; could we please stop leaving the toilet lid up? Hmmm? I know this is not glamorous but, frankly, it's just good manners and I expect better at least from some of the younger zombies. Elder zombies, I understand you have issues reaching things without dropping limbs, and I respect that stretching is an issue, but if you need help just gurgle. Sheesh.

Not only will this benefit the females of the house, this will also put a stop to the people falling into the basin of the loo. Do you know how much poker playing time was lost last week due to incidents like this? No? Well it was a lot and I really hate having to pry people out of it rather than getting my game on. I need the practice. I'm down at LEAST three shoes and some sort of scarf thing I procured from the wardrobe when Mia was off getting soup.

Plus,  on top of that, we were nearly discovered by Mia the other day and that would have been terrible for all us. You know what will happen if she finds out about the card games in the bathroom. We can't afford to lose this room, it's the only one she's forgotten to ban. Remember? Right. Good. So put the lid down. You will find the next game time neatly penned beneath the fountain out by the third washing line. Just say the password and wait. Please also bring three shoes and some sort of scarf to the game, this will be your entrance fee.

Cool,

Braelyn

Sneaky takeout.

"That cat saw straight through us. We are so dead." A sigh. I don't have to look up from the ticking of my watch to know that Raye is scowling through the darkness at Braelyn.

"That cat was a fox, future-girl, and out outfits are fine. Quit fussing."

I turn to them. They stand there, two feet away, bickering under the dim light of the streetlamp. It turns their skin an amber colour but their essence remains the same. It's lucky I'm the only zombie here, they reek of life and heart and soul and innocence. Their disguises are weak, even the lavender scent they wear to smell different only masks the effect slightly. It's like looking at them through shaded glass but like looking at them nonetheless. 

"Perhaps we can focus on the task at hand?" I say. They both jump which is hardly surprising since they're human but disappointing since they claim to be in stealth mode.

"I hate special assignments," Braelyn sniffs. Her leather jacket creaks as she folds her arms. "They're stupid.

"I hate your face," Raye whispers. Always forgetting my auditory range exceeds hers.

"Ladies," I say. "Calm down. We are simply helping out whilst Mia studies. This can be training for your literary journeys too."

"The only reason I'm here is that is away from the gnawing and lamp smashing," Raye says. "Don't kid yourself otherwise, Adam."

"Regardless," I say and turn because I can smell him. Well, not him. I can smell every fibre of being within him, the hydrogen bubbling in his veins and the boredom sweating through his pores. All of it. He is here and we have a plan to execute.

I adjust my hat and straighten my tie. As I stalk up to him Raye follows behind, her heels clip on the concrete. Braelyn is our lookout girl. I tasked her with making sure we are not spotted but really I wish her to hand back to ensure success. Braelyn is incapable of staying calm,  but she can learn from watching nonetheless. Additionally, I think the time she spent in the bathroom getting ready with Raye might have cooled their tempers for now.

"Good evening," I boom at the young gentleman with greasy hair. An unfortunate lack of belt accessorising means his trousers have shifted down his waist. I consider telling him but a glance to Raye silences me. He looks up, clutching the boxes like they are weapons. I do not think he recognises me from last time. Perhaps all that panic and fire blurred his memory.

"Is it?" he says. His sea green eyes widening when he spots Raye. That was the effect I was hoping for when I styled her similar to those young girls in those fashion throwaways. Short skirts sometimes do that to unsuspecting young men.

"I believe you have something for us?"

"I do?" He is still staring at her, his gaze roaming tentatively. Perhaps even now, as Raye wears a smile that would light up an entire harbour, he can sense that if they wander too far he is as good as dead. He gulps.

"Indeed." I pluck out the notes from my breast pocket and push them into his jacket pocket. He does not move. "Two large mozzarellas, one with extra hot dogs. Correct?"

His hands loosen on the boxes, I slide them from his grip and hope we can make a speedy exit.

"They're for you?" he croaks. "Oh geez, thank my giddy aunt, I thought it was for those zombie people again.  Lucky I came to make sure. We're under strict orders not to serve them. Not after last time with the exploding glitter and all."

"Really?" Raye smiles. "How odd."

A day in the life of Braelyn Clements

I wake on her bed. Shivering, I scowl  at the red light of the heater. Always teasing me, never actually delivering on the promise it makes by existing. Sighing, I swat the digital clock off her dresser as I roll out of bed. She'll probably need a new one again because I swat with my ankle-knife.

I kick her on the way to the kettle and then again on the return journey. She mumbles but rolls over, still asleep on the carpet. That girl could mumble her way through a house exploding. Seriously. 

The spoon chimes against the ceramic as I stir. I watch her breathing into her blankets, clutching her pillow. I sip after a while, leaning against the cool desk. I wouldn't say I'm hooked on this drink but you folks from the past definitely were onto something when you made coffee.

As fun as it is to watch Mia sleep I get bored quickly. After all, she's the only one of us who has any patience for her zombie pets and the clanging that's coming from the kitchen. I am not going in there alone.

So I set down the steaming mug on a shelf and aim. This is not as dangerous as it sounds. I've only ever hit somebody once and that was Adam so it's not like he minded that much, what with being undead and all. All the same I decide to swap my weapon for a book, a hardback, at the last second. It should be just as good. It thuds loudly next to Mia's head as it hits the floor. She starts and blinks. Her pupils are massive, making her eyes almost black, as she surveys the room and yawns.

"Oh, you're up,"  I say lightly like I didn't cause this. "How lucky."

She stretches, rubs her face, and whispers something before sitting up. Wiping her eyes, she glances from the mug to my mouth. I watch her gaze return to a more normal brown colour.

"Got anything less toxic over there, Braelyn?"

"I don't know, do you?" I shrug and watch her pick some glitter out of her hair. She taps a finger against her chin.

"If you make me some hot chocolate I'll rewrite that awkward kiss scene today," she says. Her lips curl up into a knowing smile.

"Fine." I roll my eyes, knowing she's caught me because I do not want to spent the rest of forever in a book with the cringiest kiss scene ever. I flick the kettle switch down, when I turn back she's walking to the door.

"Be right back," she calls over her shoulder. "I think they're hungry again." 

She takes her time, long enough for me to make her vile concoction and set it on the dresser. Long enough for me to idly flick to the page I was on in this book about wolves and teenagers and falling in love. It all seems pretty unsanitary to be honest.

I drop my reading material when she returns. It falls open on the bed as I jump off. The door squeaks as she bursts in, her flushed face making her look breathless. I pick up my new mug of coffee.

"A word of advice," she gasps as she leans up against the door. Her socks slide along the carpet as the door trembles behind her. The pounding coming from the other side makes it sound like the culprit has fists of steel. "Don't randomly create a half-zombie-monster thing and then just leave him there, stewing in a swamp, to go make breakfast. That is not as smart as you might think."

"I will definitely try not to," I say dryly and blow lightly on my steaming mug. She doesn't seem to catch my tone. 

"I didn't even mean to, I was just scribbling a little dialogue down whilst they ate." She nods  backwards, I suppress a shiver. She might claim they eat hot dogs but I've always been dubious about their real diet.

"Pass me that lamp, will you?" Mia looks to the dresser behind me. Morbidly curious, I oblige only to watch her nearly hit herself in the face as she swings it around, still leaning on the door.

"I could call that Tyler guy?" I say, not really knowing if I can but willing to try. Raye once told me Tyler is this super-zombie. I'm sure he could handle this. "Or even Raye?"

"Nah." She grins. "We'll give this a go and see what happens."

"If you die can I have my pen back?" I tilt my head. Her grin just widens. I wonder what it's like to have so much optimism.

"See you on the other side, " she says with a wink. With that she turns, lets go of the door and stumbles out with a shrill battle cry.

I hear a muffled thud followed by the sound of glass shattering. As much as I want to help, I don't move from my coffee. Mia 's a writer. If she didn't enjoy the adventure she could just un-imagine the creature. At least, I'm pretty sure.

She does return, in case you're worried. She returns and we start working on my character. There are interruptions and zombies stumbling in to nibble the corners of things and, at one point, a small fire. There are more moments where I throw things at her, too many to count, but she never holds it against me. There are arguments. There is laughing. She remains wide eyed and full of enthusiasm and I just drink a lot of coffee.

This is how a typical day passes with her, never the same but always following some sort of template wherein adventure and me drinking caffeine seem to be the key ingredients. I would say it's tiresome but it's not like we know how to be any other way. Plus I really like coffee.

Introductions #2

In which I, Raye Ashcroft, do not leave the readers hanging from last week and continue the journey that I have, in no way, not been coerced into writing. Not at all definitely I was told to write this. So, if you didn't click the link a recap would be something like; car, me, other characters, Mia arrives, evil minions chase, I wonder why I bother, her other main character is annoying me. Now we can continue. Ok, Mia? Geez.

 

"To glory!" Mia squeals. Her hair blows in the breeze as I press my foot down as hard as I can against the accelerator. I watch the minions behind us easily keep pace in the mirror. Darn them and their shiny car. When I glance back at Mia, she's stuck her head out of the window.

"Get back in, you idiot," I yell over the roar of the wind.

I try to yank her in but my hand just catches the coarse material of her jacket. She easily shrugs out of my grip and continues grinning at the passing landscape. Normally I wouldn't mind so much but her disregard for safety is making it hard for me to drive. I will not be responsible for another headless injury this week. I drum my fingers on the wheel for a moment before taking action.

"Tyler," I shout. I don't need to shout, he's two feet away and a zombie. He has incredible hearing through that golden mess of hair. "Be a doll and grab the wheel will you?"

I let Tyler frown in the rear-view mirror for only a second before I relinquish control of the car. He's probably more  shocked than I am as I feel him dive over the seat as I slide sideways. I rarely trust anyone with this car. Typical of Mia to force it out of me.

Back to the task at hand, with my arms nicely freed up I easily drag Mia back into the cabin and close the window in one sweep. She looks slightly confused as she settles in her seat, now our seat, but she's not headless so this is a plus.

The only thing wrong now is that I'm stuck sharing a seat with her and my undead boyfriend is driving. As I watch him roll up his sleeves, showing off that weird tan he always, and nonchalantly change gear I begin to wonder whether Mia planned this. She's really good at setting traps when she wants to. I swivel to catch her gaze. I give her my best I-am-not-pleased frown.

"What now?"

"We could head for the cinema?" she says. Her expression is really open, she must genuinely believe that we want to go watch a vampire movie with her. It's such a shame to let her down. "Or that pub near my flat? Oooh, they do really good food on a Friday. Let's do both!"

"I mean the post." I flick away her question with my wrist, hoping that will keep her at bay for now. "What now? Are you actually going to ask us questions or are we going to be eaten by minions?"

"I was sort of hoping you'd introduce yourselves…" She tilts her head, a hand slowly reaching into her jacket pocket. It's a movement I know well. I grimace. Sure enough, out comes the tattered notebook. Unlike other times, though, she shows me a page already written instead of filling blank ones. I lean in, curious.

"See." She points, I follow her finger as I read. It's a list of course; things we might like to say about ourselves like our age and origin and favourite colour. Blah blah blah. I don't have a favourite colour so this is going to be tricky.

"I like number four," I hear the Braelyn kid say behind us. I glance around and see that both Adam and her are straining to read it too. "My favourite meal is soup. My brother used to always make me soup, in the future that is."

"Soup is agreeable." Adam nods. I watch his wig wobble on his head. "I rarely get to dine on it. Mostly I get given goulash."

I study them for a second before turning back to Mia. I nod.

"There you are, lots of stuff about us," I say. She looks unconvinced. "Happy now? Can you stop with the evil minions trying to kills us?"

Mia caps her pen and chews her lip. As if to emphasise my point I watch four arrows ping by the window. Great, the minions have weapons now.

"What about Twilight?" she mumbles. I barely catch the words over the sound of the engine.

"Twilight we can do," I lie quickly, hoping nobody holds me to it. My neck feels hot but I don't think she notices the effect the untruth has on me.

"And then maybe a group reading of Mockingjay?" She blinks, her eyes big brown examples of hope. I watch Adam and Braelyn nod encouragingly.

"That too," I bluff. I cough to clear my guilty throat.

"Also we're doing regular character posts." She studies me, I nod. I might as well go for a full set of lies now. "Well, ok then."

As she pockets her notebook once again I feel the car slow down. I turn to give Tyler a piece of my mind about fleeing from evil minions, and things we don't do, when I notice the car behind us has vanished. I glance back at Mia, she smiles.

"See you in two weeks," she mouths as she slowly begins to disappear.  And that's it. That's all we get for our troubles. In my stunned silence I feel everybody watching me, Tyler especially with his emerald coloured gaze, like I might explode.

"Anyone for pizza?" He asks lightly after a moment of contemplating me. "Anyone? I think we should get pizza. I like pizza. Pizza is good for end of year celebrations."

Introductions #1

My name is Raye and I live inside a writer's head. It's not exactly ideal but I've pretty much gotten used to it. It's not like I go where I'm put. I give Mia only what I feel like and never a jot more.  So when she decided to follow us around for her introductions post I basically blew her off with something about how I was washing my hair that day and probably every day for the next two years.

After that I decided to forget about the whole thing. I figured that was that. It really was not. And now she's standing outside my newly washed car wearing nothing but PJs, a blue jacket, and some worn out slippers that have bunnies on them. Zombie bunnies, that is. I swear she dresses like that just to annoy me.

"I thought you were focussing on your other story?" I narrow my eyes as I lean around her and unlock the driver's door. "You know, the one with the kid who gets sent to Azkaban and is all whiney."

"It's not Azkaban," she bristles and folds her arms. "It's in the future. And I told you we need to do this character piece. We have a deadline."

"Whatever."

I manage to scoot around her and slide into the car. She lets me, which is surprising, but I soon find out why. The passenger door wafts in a cool breeze as she hops in beside me. I didn't even see her run around the car. It must be good to control the physics of the world inside your head.

"You're not going to let this go, are you?" I say as I fiddle with my key chain. She grins in that goofy way that she does. I tilt my head and hope that she'll get lost in the way a few autumn leaves blow by or something. Writers sometimes do that.

"You might as well just drive, you know," a voice says from behind me."She will leave us eventually."

I glance into the rear-view mirror and see Tyler sitting there, looking aged in his resignation. We spend enough time together in the same novel without having to do stuff like this. Even aged he looks good though, blonde hair and green eyes that sparkle like jewels. If I didn't know he was a very old zombie I'd guess he was 18 maybe.

"Not until the post," Mia chips in. She waves her pen around before scribbling something down. I roll my eyes at her but she's too busy muttering and staring intensely at her notebook.

"I have a suggestion," another voice calls from my backseat. 

This time I swivel round to find out what exactly is going on and why my car is so populated. There was nobody in here when I left for a pee break. The face I'm met by is unfamiliar. He grins as I glance beside him and see Braelyn, Mia's next big main character in that stupid other book. You know, the one with Azkaban or whatever.

"Anyway." The grinning face clears his throat, he coughs up a beetle.  "Why don't we just drive and see what happens? Now that we're all here that could be fun."

"Just who are you?" I say and try not to stare at his nose. It's greener than the rest of his grey face. Judging from the way he smells I'd say he was an older zombie, one that rots.

"Adam." He smiles and reveals a set of perfect teeth. Disturbing when put next to his black lips. "Please excuse the costume. Mia didn't give me time to change. I moonlight as an extra in her other things."

"Costume?" Tyler leans forward and says. "It's incredibly convincing. It even smells real."

"Thank you." Adam bows his head. " I make them all myself."

"Oh really?" Tyler smiles politely. "So pleasant to meet somebody interested in the textile industry. Tell me, is it-"

"Can we go?" that stupid Braelyn kid butts in. I can call her that because a) she's a full year my junior at sixteen and b) this is my car and she's got to be stupid to think I'll actually continue to let her exist in it. "Only the evil undead minions are almost here and I don't like being eaten."

"What minions?" I say, forgetting how stupid I think she is just momentarily.  Out of the corner of my eye I see Mia claps her hands.

"Just the ones I sent." She laughs. "Brae's right, we should go before they eat us. Also, I gave them a car. I hope you don’t mind."

"Why did you do that? Can they even reach the peddles?" I scowl. 

"I thought it would change up the dynamics nicely." She shrugs. "Plus if we go now we might still make it in time for a late night viewing of the latest Twilight and I just know how much you guys want to see that."

There's this collective groan in answer to her remark as I finally rev the engine to life and pull out into the road. The car that speeds behind us doesn't get any further away as I drive but at least it doesn't advance either. Apparently Mia will go to extraordinary lengths to make this post happen.

So, hi. I'm Raye and currently I'm a little busy trying not to get eaten.