Mom is doing her best to appear sober, "Kirk darlink - we have a pest - hic - I mean guest - hic - one of your school friends has - hic - come to visit - hic," she slurs, while attempting to top up her glass from a box of wine.

"Here, let me help you Mrs Russel, most of that hit the floor," says Dale, ensuring her glass is full to the brim.

When he looks at me, it's with an expression I can't quite read. "Your Mom's been telling me some pretty heavy stuff here Kirk."

"I guess that's the wine talking Dale, I wouldn't take much notice of what Mom Says these days," I reply. Dad taught me to say this, to dilute and divert anything Mom may have said. Dale beams me a big fake smile, "Don't try and bull-shit me buddy! The truth drops outta drunks like crap from a big binge-eaters behind. Talking of which, are you and Casey dating?"  I don’t know the answer, so remain silent.

Mom's eyes swim round the room, struggling to focus. "Look at her, she's a pathetic excuse for a Mother," says Dale, with a vicious sting in his tongue. Mom, unsure of what he said, slurs a sorry smile.  

Dale tops up Mom's glass and places it in front of her, "Here you go Mrs Russel, have another glass and tell me more of this zombie stuff, I find it really interesting."

Even though I feel a little anger, I don't show it, this is the good thing about my current condition – mortals can't read my emotions, they're hidden.

I remove the glass from Mom's grasp, like Dad showed me, "Enough Mom."

"Hey come on Kirk, your Mom and I were enjoying ourselves, don't can the party – give her the glass, your Mom's dying for another drink," he says, with an inappropriate smile.

"Dale, I want you to leave my house, I need to take care of my Mom." His eyes darken, "I’m not going anywhere Kirk; not until you tell me what Toby and my uncle are doing here?" My response is fast, instinctive, "They're not here."

Mom emits a drunken and confused yelp when Dale's fist slams into the table, "Don't lie to me Kirk!" he hollers, his voice laced with a potent anger. 

His face pushed in mine, Dale hisses, "I followed them here – watched them walk right through your door Kirk."

"They've left with my father, some business to attend to," I lie. Dale breaks his stare, nods his head, "Business my ass hole!” He sits on the couch and continues, “You know something Kirk, this sudden friendship between you guys, it don't feel right." He takes a seat, "I'm suspicious Kirk, very suspicious of you guys."

......

Mom is slumped on the couch, her slow snores rattle round the room.  Dale moves away from her, "Or man, she smells real bad!" He picks up Jess's book from the armrest and scans the synopsis on the back cover, "You gotta get your Mom some other reading material, her pickled brain's believing this zombie stuff."

Dale throws the book on the couch, then fixes me with an expression I read as sincere, "I'm gonna tell you something Kirk. These friends of yours, Casey, Jess, my cousin – they don't really like you.” His smile widens, “No, they just hang with you cos it makes them look good, makes them appear all liberal and caring, non judgmental, supporting the under dog." He moves closer, "The truth is, they think the same as everybody else in School – that you're a total freakathon! A born loser."

He gives my face a soft slap, "A make-up wearing miss-fit." He slaps a little harder, "Everyone laughs at you." Slap. "Even the teachers think you're a useless joke." Slap. "You disgust decent minded people." His final slap is hard – I don't flinch – don't feel his hand, only his words – they sting me a little.

Dale steps back from me, "What do I have to say to get you to hit me Kirk?" he asks. "Just ask me to hit you," is my obvious reply. He turns his cheek toward me, "OK, so hit me Kirk." I oblige, and floor him with my right hook.

......

We wait in silent anticipation while Dad checks Dale's pulse – "He's alive!" he says, the tension falling from his face as he stands up.

Casey's sigh of relief ricochets round the room; she looks towards Jess, who's watching the trailer for a zombie movie on YouTube, "Hey Jess, come help me get Mrs Russel upstairs to bed," she says, with an active, positive attitude.

…….

Dad's real pissed with me. Toby and Clark calm him down, "Remember, he's still a reanimate, you can't expect him to respond with full rationale," says Clark, as if I'm not in the room. I don't like it when they do that.

I imagine Casey and Jess laughing at my stupidity upstairs. I guess Dale's right; I'm a freak – the joke that no one laughs at. A loser. 

......

Dad places a cushion under Dale's head, "I suspect he's heavily concussed, Kirk packs a hard punch," he says. 

Clark addresses Casey and Jess in his formal manner, "We need to get home now. It's important we're not here when Dale regains consciousness." He looks down at Dale, "I believe him asking Kirk to hit him may have been an agenda, his attempt to stir trouble," he pauses, "But, I hope I'm wrong on that one." 

Jess rises from the computer, “You’re right Clark, this is the Dark Side’s doing for sure, I feel it strong.” She walks toward Dad, “Keep me informed of all developments, I can sneak from home at a moments notice. She gives Dale a look I read as disgust, I don’t want to be here when that piece a garbage comes round – don't trust myself, I might do a Kirk and knock him out again.”

......

The house is a lonely place without my friend’s positive energy; it’s filled with my Father’s fear and my self-loathing.

......

Dale’s eyes snap open with a surprising suddenness. I read a look of disorientation on his face, which soon merges into realization when he sees Dad and I. He feels his head, then jumps to his feet.

Dale studies his face in the mirror. His right eye is swollen and plump, like a ripening tomato. Eventually, he speaks, "Nothing seems broken, but I'll have a huge shiner for sure," he says, with a tone I kind of read as satisfied. Confusing.

"Look Dale, you know Kirk has issues, I hope we can sort this out between us and move forward," says Dad, with a friendly casual manner. Dale doesn't answer, instead he asks, "Can you fetch me some ice and a cloth for my eye please Mr Russel."

Once out of the room Dale hisses at me, "Your Dad's a loser as well Kirk. He should know an un-provoked attack by a highly dangerous juvenile like yourself is not something that we can sort out ourselves." He laughs, "No, this is a matter for the law." He walks towards the door, "I'll forget the ice Kirk, it's best the police see my eye at its worst, see the damage you can inflict."

Dale slams my door shut.

......

The sight of my Father in tears causes a little flurry of sadness to flutter through me. He implores the Law Enforcement Officers, "Please, he has special needs, don't take him, there has to be another way," he pleads between bleary eyed sobs.

A female officer attempts to calm him, "Mr Russel, we're aware of Kirk's needs and we'll ensure a doctor be made available should he need one," she says. This sends Dad into deeper hysterics, "NO! He doesn't need a doctor, he's perfectly healthy..."

...I can't be examined by a doctor, I don't have a pulse.

As a male officer cuffs me, Dad's despair deepens, "Dale's a liar, I believe he beat Toby, and he beat..." ...the officer raises his hand, "Mr Russel, if you want to make a serious counter allegation, then you have to do it in the appropriate manner. Right now you are preventing Law Enforcement Officers from doing their job, which in itself is a crime. If you don't calm down, I'll have you arrested as well."

......

I smell the previous tenant – a pungent aroma of stale body odour and vomit wafts round the small space I stand in. My cell in the juvenile holding facility has a concrete slab on which lies a grey mattress; a small silver toilet sits in the corner – I won't require either facility.

I thought Casey liked me for real – I feel a little foolish – friendless – freakish. Alone.

Then I feel something else, a part of my existence that my arresters should fear – hunger!

 It’s been a while since my last feed. They said a probation officer will visit me in the morning. He might have to be my next meal. Carnage!