peejeethurteen(thezombiestory)prt.1.

Zombies. Monsters. Grenades.
Oasis. Guns. Barricades.

I've been meaning to write this one up for about a week now. One night recently, i had just gotten home from a wrestling tournament, taken my hour long shower, and collapsed onto my bed only to fall asleep immediately. Whenever i am completely worn out, i always have really epic dreams. They end up feeling like a whole day in my mind, and they feel so real, that in my head, it never even crosses my mind that it might be a dream.

Caution: the following is quite weird. (For some reason the entire thing took place in a setting which resembled Gotham city.) Come to think of it, it reminded me of this Left 4 Dead clip i saw on youtube.

So i had just finished school on a friday and everyone met up at the lockers. Sean, Kelly, Glenn and I had decided to go for a bite to eat, and then meet up with a bunch of friends at the mall.

So everyone split up. It was just us four together, and about an hour later, after we'd finished eating, we were walking in the streets. For some reason, it was ridiculously dark for that time of the day and the streets were REALLY quiet.

All of a sudden, all the lights went out in all of the buildings around us, and the only light came from the dim streetlights. It was all really movie-esque. In fact i'm pretty sure this dream came mostly from movie scenes and a couple of video games.

Mutants appeared, and i choose the word mutants because these weren't just some ordinary zombies, they were all out arms-coming-out-of-their-eyes, forked-tongues, long-sharp-talons, glowing-red eyes and everything. The didn't look anything like humans rising from the dead, but for some reason in the back of my head i knew that those "mutants" were the product of a human infestation. It's weird how in dreams there's always these things that you just know.

Scared poo-less, Sean, Kelly, Glenn and I fled before they saw us and headed straight to "Guns! Guns! Guns!" a nearby hunting store that Sean knew about thanks to his dad's hunting hobby. After a quick baseball bat to the window (don't ask me where it came from, there's a lot of continuity holes in my dreams. moretocome.), we slipped in and stocked up, filling our pockets with more than they could hold (literally. it'sadream). I think i had something like 6 handguns in the back pocket of my jeans. And a huge stock of ammo. I actually don't remember where i kept it... it was on me somewhere. And after me belting out an extremely cliche "lockandloadppl". We headed towards the oasis which we knew existed somehow.

It was a helluva journey. The entire way there, the four of us moved in a tight formation, Glenn watching our backs, Kelly and I watching the flanks and Sean taking the point. It took us something like two hours to get to the oasis, having to deal with small groups of zombies rushing at us. By the time we got near the oasis, our ammo reserves were completely depleted, and we were lucky enough to be saved by a team of people armed to their chins with machine guns and ammo, taking cover behind a 5 foot wall of sandbags.

As we ran towards them, bullets flew over our heads, mutants leaped at us from above, only to be answered with a flurry of bullets, and we ran with our eyes fixed forwards. Finally we clambered over the sandbag walls and into safety.

The oasis looked like something that had been built specifically for such a disaster. It was made of white marble, and shot high up into the sky, at least 20 stories high. It's white shine was impressive against the darkened day that surrounded it. It really did seem like a true oasis.

As soon as we entered through the main portal, the entire atmosphere changed completely. The air wasn't heavy, or musty, it was crisp and cool. And when i started to really look around and take in what was surrounding me, i realized that it could have been a beached cruise ships. There were multiple restaurants everywhere, japanese, chinese, caribbean, and every kind of specialty food you could imagine. There were dining halls, music rooms, karaoke boxes, even wrestling mats. Being inside the oasis made everything that was happening outside disappear. And i just knew that there was enough food in the place to sustain it forever. You could just relax, and go on a permanent vacation, and you'd never have to even believe in such a thing as a mutant zombie. Most imporantly, the front portal was heavily guarded. Supply rooms spanned the entire area surrounding the door, and guards with guns bigger than themselves faced the door with an unwavering stare.

Us four were dirty, sweaty, and bloody. A nice woman showed us to a vacant room and we took turns washing up in the shower, and changed into fresh clothes that were given to us. When everyone had settled down, Sean and kelly were playing cards, Glenn was lying on the bed making shapes out of the patterns on the ceiling, and i was sitting on the windowsill, staring out into the streets, littered with mutant bodies, moving and lifeless alike.

My cellphone rang. I'd forgotten that i even had it with me. It was Sally.

"Where are you guys? Do you even know what's going on? Everyone got split up at the mall, i'm with Ria, we don't know where anyone is."
"Wait, wait, calm down, are they there?"
"Whatever they are... yeah. They're everywhere"

The line went dead. By the looks on their faces, i could tell that the other three had pieced together the look on my face to figure out what had happened. I stood up and threw on my shoes, slamming the door behind me as i exited, only for it to reopen just a second later, with the three of them on my heels.

"We're going to help them, right?"

I didn't even answer Kelly, i was too busy preparing myself for what us four would have to do. But she knew what my answer was.

The supply rooms beside the front entrance gate were much bigger from the inside than how they seemed from the out. For the second time within only a few hours, we loaded ourselves far past human capacity (again, carrying physically impossible amounts of weaponry in pockets, feltlikemasterchief). We were prepared within a couple of minutes, and made our way to the gate.

The men there tried to convince us to stay within the oasis, and just wait for everything to pass. It was incredible how they could just let go of their whole worlds, and hide with their heads buried.

"I don't know how you can just sit on your asses here, while all of this is going on outside"
"Isn't there a single person that you care about out there? You're leaving them to die."
"We're not going to watch our friends die like you"

I forget exactly who said what, but Sean, Glenn and I sure told those guys off. They looked like they were completely disgusted with themselves as we walked out the door and into the dank, musty air...

>>>>>>>>>><<<<<<<<<<<

* okay so that's enough for part one. If i don't do this story in parts, you're all going to faint from boredom. There'll be more to come later. :D

Song: Cut the Curtains - Billy Talent

hecan'tbelieveit.

He's astounded.
These types of things happen to others.

He walked unlocked the door, and hobbled into the house, limping on his left leg. Every step he took sent a light jolt of pain through his calf, constantly reminding him of the muscle cramp that took him out of yesterday's wrestling practice near the end.

He couldn't complain about being unhappy. Yes, out of four matches in one day, he'd lost two, but those were to two Ontario champions, both more experienced than him, both stronger, faster, and heavier. Besides, his other two matches made him proud enough to forget his losses for the day.

"Hey bud, how was the tournament?"
"Same ol', same ol' "

His dad smiling profusely in the background, he ignored the expression and threw open the fridge for something, anything, to kill his hunger. Soy milk. Thank God. It always hit the spot. Grabbing a glass, and pouring out more than a full serving, he tapped his foot on the ground, testing out his leg. As he began to wash his cup, he became aware that his dad was still smiling profusely.

"One of my colleagues called me today."
"K."
"She's the president's secretary."
"K."
"And she called me"
"oookayyyyy."
"looking for you."
"who?"
"you."
"yoru?"
"your who?"
"not your who, yoruuuuu"
"NOT YORU, YOU."
"why..."
"well, she wanted to talk to you"
"why would she want to talk to me"
"because."
"because WHAT dad?"
"you won the scholarship"

His blank stare told his father that it had not yet processed in his brain. Five seconds later, a sound comparable to a train whistle let loose. Except it was him screaming, not a thousand pound instrument. As his cheer slowly died down, the reality only continued to sink in.

All of those hard hours that he'd worked on his application had finally turned out to pay off. Of all the children of all the Hatch employees across North America, he could say with confidence he was at least the second most impressive according to the evaluation committee. Even that was a huge morale booster to him, without the money. Of course, the money was well welcomed.

With a new energy, he raced upstairs, threw his two bags on the floor (one for wrestling, one for school. hellaheavy.), and raced back down, tripping at least thrice, but catching the railing each time. He grabbed the telephone receiver and dialed the familiar phone number he'd memorized by heart.

"heyyyyyy siiiiissstaa."
"whut."
"guess what?"
"whut."
"i got the scholarship"
"awwww! Buddy, i'm so happy for you, good job!"

Then he dialed out the other number he knew by heart.

"heyyyyyyy brooooooo"
"whut"
"guess what?"
"CHICKEN BUTT"
"no, but close... i got the scholarship!"
"doooooooooood!"

Content with himself, he treated himself to another well-deserved glass of soy milk. With a few simple conversations, his entire day had been turned around. No, his entire month. This one event lifted tons of weight off of his shoulders. Not only his, but his parents. Now they could enjoy at least a bit more of their money to themselves, and not have to use it up on their son.

For him, this meant that he was much farther ahead of schedule with his savings, and it even meant a good chance at a summer job that he hadn't dreamed of getting offered until at least the end of his first year of university. It felt to him that things were starting to actually look up for him, for once.

Finally, he smiled so wide, he felt like his cheeks would rip, and then hit his computer so as to blog away some of the overwhelming joy.

yay :D

note: all preceding conversations were almost purely fictional. I just wanted to make them more interesting. And i haven't said "chicken butt" in years.

Song: I Hate This Part - Pussycat Dolls.

abreathoffreshair.

After a long run of withdrawal, i've finally gotten my fix.
A shame it's a little bit late.

Heart Lake Secondary School in Brampton. The home of the Hurricanes. Their wrestling team is very well known in the wrestling community as one of the largest, and one of the more successful teams. In fact, three years ago, two of their grade nine boys took Ontario championship titles. That's a nearly unheard of feat. Probably due to their impressive rap, Heart Lake's annual "Hurricane Hammer Wrestling Tournament" hauls out the second most wrestlers in the region of peel every year. It's no surprise that the tournament runs from 8:30 AM to about 6:30 PM. With around 600 wrestlers, that's still impressive time.

Knowing all of this, the night before the meet, the gears were still turning fast in my head even when my body was ready to take a rest. All i could think about was what was going to happen the next day, what i didn't want to happen, what i wouldn't let happen, and what i would beat myself up for letting happen. Unfortunately, each of these topics were jam packed with substance and i didn't find sleep until around 2 AM.

Walking into a wrestling meet for me is always like being hit by a train. As soon as those gym doors open and you cross the threshold, the atmosphere changes dramatically. First of all, it physically changes (this is a kinda gross part, i'm warning you. nastysrsly.). Because of the huge numbers of wrestlers present, all pushing themselves hard on the mats, trying to stay warmed up for their match, the gym always feels like a sauna. A mixture of a ton of body heat, and like sweat in the air. Nasty i know. But nothing gets me more pumped up for a wrestling match than that kinda atmosphere. Secondly, the mental atmosphere changes too. Contrary to what you would think, everyone is generally in a pretty damn good mood at wrestling tournaments even though half of them are about to get their face ground into the mat. These two things combined are what i'm always preparing myself for the night before every meet, but it still knocked me off my feet when i opened those doors on Thursday.

Since i had gained upwards of 6 pounds over the break, i'd tragically pushed myself up into the next weight class. So when i looked at my bout sheet (it tells you who you're going to face, and when. boutsheet), i didn't know a thing about any of the people in my category... a change from knowing every single person on the sheet like usual.

The first match was against a tanked white guy with a tattoo and bigger arms than my legs. I honestly do not know how i could have possibly weighed as much as him but i wasn't so concerned about that so much as not getting my collarbone crushed when we locked up for the first time after the referee blew his whistle. Luckily for me, he was a rookie meaning i had a good technical advantage, and i was faster. After a round of 8-2 in my favour, i was feeling pretty good, and even though i had to continue backing away, i managed to take him down twice, and finish with a pin for the second round. That first win of the day made me feel pretty darn good.

The second match was against another guy with a similar build to the first guy, but he had longer hair. Again, my strength was really not my advantage, and i kept pretty far away from him, and lunged in for a shot when he tripped up. It was actually a really fun match, i used a bunch of different moves and even cross-ankled him three times in a row for the second round and match win.

The third match was not quite as good as the first two. I had been preparing myself mentally like mad for this one, because had i won it, i would have earned my way into the finals of my category, guaranteeing myself at least a silver medal. The first round was one of the most epic rounds of my life. The guy i faced (Sam. areallyniceguy), dealt with my setups really well and built off of one of my mistakes, leading to a nice trip and taking me down for one point. I had to defend pretty hard against his attempts to tilt me on the ground for two points. When the ref called us to stand back up, the score was 1-0 in his favour, and so i was desperately in need of points. Knowing this, i starting shaking him up and moving him around, looking for an openeing. Eventually i found it, and took him down as fast as i can for my one point. The ref awarded me my point with one second left on the clock. And though the score was 1-1, since i was the wrestler to have scored the last point, i won the round. The second round began pretty well for me. Since i knew how he wrestled from the first round, i knew how to act, and react, but i got too cocky, and made a move when he was still on balance. He picked up on my mistake and made me pay for it. Pinned me and won the entire match.

You could imagine i was pretty depressed after having lost when i was so close to my goal. But i realized that it was a fair match, and there really was nothing i could do now but shoot for the bronze. And i did.

I was pretty damn pissed. I threw all that energy into my next two matches, and they were easy as pie.

The first guy, before the match was talking to his friends about who he was going to be facing (me. ofcourse.). I like to kinda scope out my competition before my matches since i have nothing else better to do, and so i overheard the conversation. I ended up seeing him nod in my direction and then scoffing to his friends as if i would be an easy match up.

I made him cry.

No exageration. With his chin locked in my elbow, and my other arm bending his leg back to almost touch his head, he was lucky i wasn't holding on to his arm so as to not allow him to tap out like i usually do against the people that piss me off. Ohhhhhh how satisfying his grunt of pain and tears of shame were to me. The ref had to pull me off of him, and he shrunk away from me when we had to shake hands at the end of the match. Even his coach had a look of satisfaction on his face when i went over to shake his hand, and his remark "good job, Justin" really put the cherry on top of it all.

I promise i'm usually not this sadistic, but i don't tolerate people judging me on my wrestling ability just by looking at me, and before we've even entered the ring. I think i can safely say i made him eat his words.

The final match was for the bronze medal, and there was no way i was going to lose this one. The guy i was facing, decided he would try to psyche me out by flailing his arms all over the place and almost dancing around me. It makes me laugh every time i watch the video of this match because i was just standing there, like a rock, staring at him, and as soon as he made a move, i grabbed his chin, threw him to the ground and pinned him. It was all over in about 20 seconds.

So. At the end of the day. Even though i came out with just a bronze medal, i'm pretty proud of myself. I outwrestled two wrestlers who were much stronger than me by relying on my skill and speed, i made a last minute comeback, i taught a jerk a lesson, and i didn't allow someone to scare me on the mat. It was a good day.

To me, the medal really isn't just an award, it's actually more of a souvenir, and a reminder of everything that happened at this Heart Lake meet. The fights that i had. And that's a good thing because i don't want to forget them.

untilnexttime

Song: Headstrong - Trapt

PS. I have videos of every match that day, i just have to get a hold of them from various people. They'll probably be uploaded on facebook when i do. (it'll be nice to have some videos of me not losing on the internet for once. idowin.)

Here's some of the videos:
Match 2, Part 1
Match 2, Part 2

timber.

It came down like a flash of lightning.
In a second all the glory and splendor was absent.

My christmas tree. It was more than a little bit depressing to see it come down. And here's a confession: while i SHOULD have been helping pack away the ornaments, or heaving up the giant tupperware boxes for the lights, or sweeping the floor of stray scraps of garland, i was simply hiding in the back ground and just thinking. Thinking about all of this stuff:

A christmas tree almost always takes a much longer time to set up than to take down. Even though you have to search for all the right boxes and spots in which all the ornaments should be carefully placed, and there's extra cleaning to be done, i could swear we finished in half the time it took us to put the thing up. My hypothesis is that it all has to do with the attitude.

When the tree is being put up, everyone is nostalgic. We all take time to look at those ornaments we so dearly missed, and that remind us of the time that we ate way too much ice cream cake at Aunty Eileens the previous year. Or the giant ball ornament that doesn't even fit on your tree because your piano teacher's husband decided to go a little bit overboard three years ago. But you're thankful... My point is, all that time spent standing back to admire each and every segment of the tree takes up quite a bit of time.

And then there's the fact that it actually has to look good. Kevin and i spent about an hour just putting the lights on the tree. First of all, the stupid outlet was seemingly a mile away, with large buffet cabinets filled with fragile china, and various other objects. And then, after having dressed her all the way up to the neck, we realized that the other lights were a different colour than the first set. So if we continued on like that, we'd end up with a white bottom and a coloured head. It wouldn't have looked good. So we stripped her right down and started all over again. And then we realized that everything was tangled and one set of lights did not work, so we stripped her down all over again. Luckily the next time, we were successful. I wouldn't go so far as to say it looked good. But it was acceptable.

I'm also guessing that since the christmas tree is somewhat the symbol for the beginning of the season, to me it's kind of a time to savour. It's a good feeling putting up the tree no matter how tedious it is. And no matter how ugly i'm beginning to realize a lot of the ornaments i've made are.

Alternatively, in the removal of the tree, this sense of nostalgia has already faded away, and the action represents the ending of our holdiays. It's not quite something that one would like to draw out. It was actually pretty sad to see all the ornaments back in their boxes, the tree on the floor ready to be packed away (it's a fake tree. muchcheaper.).

It's really a shame that holidays are coming to an end but in a way i guess it's a good thing. I've been getting incredibly lazy and played around way too much. I'm sure a bit of school work will be good for me. Maybe get back into the good work habits. Not to mention it will be nice to see everyone at school again.

Hopeyourholidayswereawesome.

Song: Collide - Howie Day