'Zombies' a word often associated with the living dead in horror movies. Known mostly for their very slow movement and their brain eating or cannibalistic tendencies.

  Even though this genre, if you could call it that, has quite a long origin story, dating back far before movies. The furthest back records bring us to ancient Greece, where skeletons were found buried with an extra boulder on top to keep the dead from rising.

  In older stories, zombies of course weren't created by a virus, but with the help of a voodoo master.

  These masters would give their targets something to drink in order to let them slowly 'die' and then let them arise again when they are needed.

  Currently in video games one of the common classes is necromancer, meaning a wizard who could bring back the dead. something that was clearly inspired by ancient history.

  Nowadays zombies are mostly seen as fictitious and nothing but a scary story to make you fear big companies or quiet towns. To be afraid of strangers, acting, well strange, on the streets late at night or even during the day.

  Strangers are scary after all, so is being alone and human beings like the feeling of being afraid.

  To be afraid is to be alive.

  Or perhaps I'm completely wrong, perhaps I'm the only one thinking this way.

  Perhaps it is just a mirror into my own world.

  As you know it is quite a boring one.

  Some people like to say with such a life a disaster could only make something like it better.

  But would it really?

  What if it only makes everything more difficult, what if all of a sudden you are going to have to make a decision.

  A decision that might kill someone?

  Will you ever be able to forgive yourself for something like that?

  What if something like that forces you to take on an identity, causing you to stand out from the crowd.

  Then what if you stand out so much that no one wants to be around you anymore.

  That you stand out so much that you might be seen as a villain of some sort.

  That you, yeah you, will be suspected of being some sort of witch doctor, bringing those damned dead back to life. To be seen as the cause of the world ending.

  That you enjoy feeding them the living that might still have a little bit of hope left.

  Will you be in need of standing your own?

  Will you be all alone?

  Or will someone stand by your side?

  What if this is just one person, someone very precious to you. Won't those who suspect, distrust them too?

  And will you be forced to take your stand alone?

  These are some of the dark thoughts I have many times, as well during night as during day.

  Even though at times I too am one of these people who wish for the worst.

  A storm that would wipe everything clean.

  A storm that would allow me to become another. To take on a role I never would otherwise.

  Well anyway, it doesn't matter.

  I started talking about zombies and went on about something completely different.

  So I've got to go back there, because there was a point I was trying to make.

  Zombies, in a way, are already here, perhaps have always been here.

  There exists different types of drugs that can make someone act that way. These drugs often cause people to die soon after taking them.

  But again, that is not what I'm talking about.

  I'm talking about everyone being so stuck inside their own worlds, their own bubbles if you will, that they can't see another. They consume whatever they believe to be edible or interesting.

  The people behind their devices, not paying attention to anything around them.

  There is a reason why it's not allowed to take a phone out driving.

  Many accidents have happened that way.

  And now they want to make cars drive themselves.

  Well who am I to complain about things like that. Around the nineteenth century, many people would walk around with newspapers, totally engrossed in them. Almost all people walk around with their phones nowadays.

  They walk around, constantly reading, watching or listening to something. I wonder if it's to forget the current reality, or if that's just me again.

  Information goes fast nowadays, but I feel very under-learned and undertaught.

  I mean I wouldn't be able to repair a car if it were to break, nor am I able to with my phone or anything else.

  If I'm without wifi at the wrong moment it might even become fatal.

  Then there are the moments in which I wonder 'why am I even alive'?

  To play this game? To watch this movie?

  I am like everyone else.

  I am like those I might call 'zombies'.

  I'm nothing but a faded out face inside a busy crowd.

  I'm nothing and so is everything else.

  Perhaps that is true zombification.

  I'm jealous of the people that still hold the believe in magic within their eyes and the people whom are still uncorrupted by depressing logic like me.

  When I look at pictures that have been posted online, I feel like it is always... fake. Showing just a fragment of another's fantasy.

  I still have contact, if you can call it that, with many people from all the schools I've been to and jobs I've had.

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  To be honest this 'contact' makes me feel more like some sort of stalker. They post so much and about much.

  I know them, I know each and every one of them and yet I don't feel a connection.

  They're just some people I used to know.

  And even though I might remember them perfectly, they have probably already forgotten all about me.

  So, yeah, I don't really look at those parts of social media anymore. I only really look when someone contacts me. But mostly those are just newsletters that I've subscribed to being send to me possibly by an AI.

  I'm jealous of my child-self, me who believed that he would slay dragons when he would grow up.

  If I would meet that me, he would only be disappointed by what I had become.

  Would he cry?

  Would he lose all of his hopes and dreams?

  Or would he have enough strength to change it all.

  To become someone else entirely.

  If someone else took over my life as me, what would they change? What would they be able to change?

  Would he be like me, and be one of the zombies?

  One of the ghosts haunting this grey city?

  "Farren, could you get me one of those boxes?" The boss asks me, focused on the messages in his phone.

  "Yes sir." I nod and make my way out of the room.

  I don't feel like taking the elevator, or well I feel like I should move more.

  They do say that the more you move the happier you might feel.

  I want to run.

  Quietly I walk through the halls, my feet not really making a sound. Something I've secretly mastered and am stupidly proud of.

  Something that makes me rebel, even if it's just a little bit.

  Something that makes me just a little bit different from the rest.

  Something that makes me a bit of a ghost or an invisible man, just a little more special.

  Perhaps I shouldn't be proud of it at all.

  But still, no one has taken notice of it.

  Let's keep it that way.

  I continue going down further and further.

  There are many stairs to go and I'm getting paid by the hour.

  For what he wanted me to get I have to go down to one of the basement floors.

  Finally, there is where it must be!

  My mind gets fatigued quickly so I'm glad to finally find what I need.

  The room where I need to get that box from.

  A familiar white door greats me.

  The white light above it is so bright it gives me a headache.

  Carefully I knock on the door.

  But unlike usual I don't hear someone calling for me to enter.

  Maybe Larrance who usually sits here has decided to take a piss-break or something?

  Smoke break?

  Well I know him a bit, so if I just leave him a note that I took one of the boxes he should be okay with it.

  I mean, I've done so before.

  But why...?

  Carefully I open the door, but as I open it on the slightest crack.

  I notice something.

  Something is very wrong.

  Why do I feel so terrified...?

  I glance behind me towards the board showing the number of the floor.

  This is the one... It really is.

  But why is the room behind the door so different from what it had been before?

  It's not supposed to be like this!

  Quickly I close the door and rush up the stairs again.

  Whatever was behind that door was not meant for my eyes.

  Completely out of breath I reach my floor.

  I try to hide it the best I can, even wiping the sweat from my forehead as I enter the room.

  "So you finally got it?" My boss asks without even glancing my way.

  "Well..." Crap I hadn't even thought of an excuse yet. If he knows that I know, I'm dead. "Well I couldn't find it." I blurt out the first thing that came to mind.

  Annoyed, he finally looks my way: "Do I have to do everything here by myself, kid?"

  He really ever only calls me 'kid' when I do something wrong.

  "I'm sorry, I got lost."

  "Lost? Like going to the cafeteria lost?"

  I nod: "Yeah, the cafeteria for the higher ups. Why do they have it in the basement though?"

  Nice safe! I whisper to myself.

  This guy doesn't believe in anyone and especially not me. So to believe for him that I went into the cafeteria during a time I had to work, is much easier than trying to convince him that I really couldn't find it.

  Angry he gets up: "I'm going to tell them to get this out of your paycheck!"

  "Understood sir. Could you please tell me where I could find them."

  Red faced he takes a map from his desk.

  "Fifth basement, they replaced it recently."

  "Alright, I will go get it then."

  They must have discussed this when I was absent.

  The fifth basement is much higher up than where they usually kept it.

  I quickly rush down again.

  I don't want to give him more to be angry about with me.

  I already know I will hear about this in my weekend.

  I now open the right white door and find the old concierge sitting at his desk.

  "Ah, Farren." He smiles at me.

  "Good afternoon mister Larrance."

  "Did you make the boss angry or what? Him sending you down again doesn't show much good."

  I nod "Yeah I did."

  He laughs: "Always the honest one. You really made my day today, you know."

  I smile back at the old man: "Did something happen?"

  As I ask my question his old wrinkled face grows suddenly dark: "Yeah, those bastards took my fucking room. Forcing me to move everything. And this room is much smaller than the one before and there is no damn elevator on this floor.

  How am I going to take up or down all of my tools?"

  "I will probably be sent soon again to fetch something, do you need me to bring something up or down for you?"

  The darkness from his face starts to fade again: "Farren my boy, you are far too good for this world." He takes my hand in the way most grandparents do to their grandchildren: "Leave this place, there is nothing good about it. And since the new CEO... shit has really started to hit the fan."

  I slowly take my hand back: "You know I can't do that."

  "Yeah, yeah I know. I signed that paper too. But still. You could just marry a rich woman. There are plenty of these days."

  I awkwardly laugh about his weird suggestion: "I'm not sure if you should say things like that.

  "Or marry a rich man, I ain't judging."

  "Mister Larrance..."

  "Well here you go boy." He hands me one of the boxes and I thank him for it.

  We say our goodbyes and I leave to go back to my floor.

  "Did you chit-chat with the ol' crazy man again?! The higher-ups will hear from this!!" My boss is angry at me for the time it took to get the thing he wanted.

  "I understand." Is the only thing I answer as I return to my desk.

  Finally I can continue on with my work, still I don't regret chatting with the concierge, he's a little weird, but very kind.

  "Hey Farren, did you really talk to mister Larrance?" My cousin suddenly pops up, looking over one of the walls of his cubicle.

  I nod: "Yeah."

  "But he's weird, right? He has all these strange theories. I heard he believes in aliens and bigfoot."

  "Yeah, yeah." I repeat: "But that doesn't decide one's entire personality. He has a good heart."

  "Intern, not you too. Get down!" The boss calls and we both sit down in our respective places. The big idiot seems to see himself so high and mighty, he clearly doesn't want to acknowledge Kathan as a human being.

  As everyone leaves for lunch the boss enters my cubicle, stopping me from leaving: "No break for you now, you know."

  "Yes sir." I answer almost robotically. I know I have all the right to it, but I don't want to fight him today.

  "I don't like it that you don't respect the rules of this company. You should appreciate what has been given to you more."

  "Yes sir, I understand. I will do better now."

  "You say that all the time, but we both know that it's bullshit. If it wasn't for the higher-ups you would be on the streets right now." Crap he must have noticed the slight sarcasm in my voice.

  I nod: "I know." While being unable to look him in the eye.

  He closes in on me as I try to continue my work: "I don't get the feeling that 'you know'."

  I breathe in, sighing audibly. I can't keep it in anymore and you know what? It's his problem, not mine: "You know you can just send them a report about it right? Then they will talk to me about it and punish me accordingly." I've had enough of his attitude.

  'The boss' seems shocked, but then he seems to have accepted defeat and gives me a little more room to breathe: "When I am CEO of this company, I will make sure you will be forced onto the streets with no chance of ever working anywhere anymore. Forced to beg for change and always think back about those horrible mistakes you made."

  I can hear the hate dripping from the words leaving his mouth soaked in it.

  The boss is a man that loves to hate.

  He hates everything.

  I wonder if there is something he loves more.

  Even though those words came out scary, I know the higher-ups better than that.

  My work is not bad, I've had conversations with them before.

  Conversations like these of course and I've always been able to get an outcome in my favour.

  They know him too and made him boss for his bossing around skill. Something that doesn't work on me and a few others anymore.

  He is all bark and no bite.

  Yes, he's a complete jerk, but if he was a dog, he would have been a chihuahua. Barking at the wrongdoers than hiding behind the leg of its owner.

  Before he gets the role of CEO, we will have flying cars in public.

  I've read about them being too dangerous and useless to ever be put to good use.

  "Psst, Farren..." My cousin whispers from the other side when the chihuahua has left.

  "What is it, Kathan?" I smile to see him, he should have gone on break, but stayed to listen.

  "You're pretty brave you know, not starting to cry before the boss."

  "Kathan I've been working here for a while now, I've just gotten used to it. You should hurry up to the cantine. There might not be an empty seat left after all."

  He nods, I read in his face an expression of pity. He must feel bad for me that I'm not allowed to take a break.

  Then he reaches for his backpack, looks around and then quickly hands me something in secret.

  "What's this?"

  "Food, mom said that she thought you had gotten too thin and pale. She wants you to eat more and... healthy at that."

  I take it: "Give her my thanks."

  "I will, but promise me you will visit us again soon."

  "I will. Now get to the cantine, I will send you a message when I have time."

  Victoriously he smiles, it's because he got me so far as to come visit them. I've been so busy lately I just haven't had the time.

  Kathan hurries away to some of his newfound friends, giving me a short wave before he leaves.

  I see the boss glancing my way again and quickly sit down readying myself to continue to work.

  Secretly eating something from time to time, because we actually aren't allowed to and if the boss catches me in the act, I will certainly be in trouble.

  It's difficult to resist though, my aunt usually makes the most delicious food. She enjoys making it for other people.

  As the first few people enter the room again, I hide the many leftovers within my back. Those will go greatly for dinner later in the day.

  Late at night I'm unable to sleep, the flashes of what I had seen behind the door still fresh in my head.

  The only sleep I'm able to get is with stress-filled nightmares, constantly wondering 'what if what if'

  At some point I hear something just outside my apartment and sit up scared just to then notice that it's only the neighbours coming home late.