The Zombie’s heart began to stir. He noticed the sun for the first time, or maybe after a long time. It looked familiar, and its warmth felt good on his face.

“Am I dead, or am I alive? Or am I something in between?”

He had a thought but it was just beyond reach. Of course, he can’t remember if he had ever had a thought before. But now he seemed to be…thinking.

“I think I’m becoming aware.” The problem was he just was not sure what he was becoming aware of.

“I think I am feeling, but you don’t think feelings do you? You feel them. It’s different, but kind of the same.” Now he was getting confused.

“Am I dead or alive?”, He thought, or maybe felt.

“Hey!”

The Zombie snapped out of himself and turned to the voice. “I’m hearing something! That’s kind of cool,” he thought to himself.

The voice was coming out of a face that looked really alive. Actually, the face was connected to a body and the whole body seemed alive, free and animated with a quality of movement that he seemed to lack. Yes, that person is certainly alive. He doesn’t seem to be like a zombie at all.

The Zombie just stared at the kid. The kid was smiling at him. The Zombie didn’t know what to do. He had never really heard a voice before, especially a voice that sounded…friendly.

“Hey,” the kid said again. “I can see you’re trying to wake up. Can I give you a hand?”

“A hand?” The Zombie said. “I don’t need any help.”

”Yea, you do.” The kid replied smiling. “You’ve been asleep for a long time, kind of like the walking dead. But I can tell you’re starting to wake up. You really can’t wake up on your own. Zombies’ try all the time, but they only really thrash around, make a lot of noise, cause some damage, but they never wake up. They stay asleep. Dead asleep.”

The Zombie stood there. Continuing to stare, but he was beginning to feel something. Deep inside. He’d never felt that before (of course he’d never felt anything, really, ever before.) But this new feeling felt light, airy–Someone had opened a window deep inside and a fresh breeze was beginning to blow.

The Zombie’s smart phone pinged. Without thinking (thinking is a new concept, after all) the Zombie reached for his phone.

“I wouldn’t look, if I were you,” said the kid.

The Zombie just stared at him.

“That thing will keep you dead if you’re not careful. Especially if you’re trying to wake-up. Better to just ignore it for now.”

The Zombie heard the kid, but he was saying something almost incomprehensible. Ignore it? Is that even possible?

“It’s okay,” interjected the kid. “It will still be there after you wake up. You’ll just never wake up until you figure out you can let it go.”

“What do you mean? It’s just a phone,” the Zombie protested.

“Well, it’s just a phone, but it keeps you asleep, dead to what’s really going on inside. It pulls you out of who you really are, out of what’s going on in the real world. It keeps you from what’s true. It keeps you out of touch. Disconnected. Dead.”

The Zombie had a pained expression on his face, proving the truth of the kid’s words. But the kid seemed so positive. The Zombie felt like he was on the edge of something or at the beginning of something. He was beginning to feel alive, but he felt the pull of staying asleep.

Asleep felt familiar. Waking up. He wasn’t sure what he thought about that. But he liked talking with the kid. He wasn’t pushy or demanding, and he seem to know what he was talking about. And while it felt a little weird talking to a stranger. He didn’t seem strange. He felt normal, only alive. He ignored the phone.

“You busy?” the kid asked.

“Huh?”

“Are you doing anything? Me and my friends are hanging out. You wanna come?”