Single Zombie Female seeks Single Human Male for friendship, long walks, movies, and possibly more. Must have an open mind and a strong stomach. Necrophilia a plus. No smoking. For a picture, email me at Z_princess82@zmail.com.
“There,” she thought, as she hit the ‘submit’ button. “That should do it. I am ready for a fresh start.”
She went to the mirror to check her make-up and prosthetics before taking a selfie. She’d gotten hair extensions and color earlier that day, and wanted to take a good picture before heading out for her nightly stroll around the neighborhood. She always came home so disheveled.
Drat, that gash in her left cheek was looking indented again. She’d have to fill it in with some silicone before taking her profile picture.
Fortunately, she had a few prosthetics already made-up from her trusty Dragon Skin FX-Pro make-up kit. By now, she was pro at filling in the missing pieces and spots of decay.
“God, it’s like being a teen-ager for the rest of my life,” she muttered to herself. “This eff-ing sucks.”
Ever since that awful night when they had attacked her and her friends outside the bar, she’d been traumatized by flash-backs. The grabbing. The biting. Every time she looked at her reflection, she couldn’t help but see her attackers in herself.
Whenever she got down, her therapist had told her to look out for what he called, ‘negative self-talk.’
“I’m doing it again. Okay, what’s my mantra…. Beauty is only skin-deep. I am the same wonderful woman. I am smart, kind, and worthy of love. Being a zombie doesn’t define the true ME.”
Feeling better, and with her face back in order, she practiced a coy grin, cocked out her hip, thrust out her breast, and snapped the picture.
She smiled at her reflection and said, “It’s never too late to start over.”