Corpse As Body, Corpse As Meal

1

A young woman with disheveled straight, black hair and smelly, wrinkled clothes was walking the dusty street that leads to the public cemetery. She weakly lifted her eyes at the flat, silver gate of the Citadel Cemetery that stood before her. Her hands shook at the very sight. It was as if she just got into heaven, her excitement was so intense.

As she took one more step, the white-painted guard house beside the gate slid open. A military officer in gray uniform with a scowling face scanned her with his judgy eyes.

“What brings you to the Citadel Cemetery?”

She gazed at him with eyes soft and weak. The way she looked at him betrayed the strength of her courage. Her boldness was because of her preparation for this interrogation. “I just want to visit a relative.”

“Isn’t it already announced years ago? No one’s allowed to enter the cemetery anymore.”

“Have some mercy, will you?” she blurted, slightly dramatic. “Most of us here have lost their loved ones! There are times that we yearn for them, and the only relief we are close to having is when we get to visit them, even if it’s only their grave!”

The officer snuck out the long nose of his gun through the dark-tinted sliding window, and pointed it to her direction. “If I were you, miss, I won’t push it,” he gritted in controlled impatience. “The president has decreed the prohibition of entering the cemetery since we moved here in the Citadel. We are licensed to kill anyone who dares to use force to enter. So, please, get the fuck out of here.”

A few minutes later, Natalia got back to the center of the city. What greeted her upon her return here were the towering buildings and ashy gray buses with Citadel Bus in white paint on them. As she took on the sidewalk, she could not help noticing the changes that went through this city. On the first year of the epidemic zombie virus outbreak, not a single soul could be seen walking around here. Although the survivors were safely rehomed in the condominiums, houses, and apartments inside the Citadel, the fear they carried within their chests had turned them in reclusive people, afraid of stepping out of their new homes because they might encounter zombies. But now, majority of the residents inside Citadel nonchalantly walked the streets and go on with their new lives. They were busy surviving but could finally manage to laugh and smile. Apparently, resilience and optimism was a Filipino’s natural trait. They easily bounce back and just laugh about the tragedies they experienced from their past. Then, life goes on.

Natalia looked up at the buildings again. An enormous billboard did not escape her eyes, it showed a full body photo of a popular fashion model—Cjay Aguirre.

The whole Citadel knows him. Who wouldn’t? Aside from being a fashion model and a celebrity, he is the unico hijo or only son of this country’s president. Her jaws clenched as she stared sharply at the billboard photo of the guy with tons of makeup and concealer on his face. She found his oozing boastfulness so appalling. His pride was made evident by his confident stance—standing with his legs parted and his arms crossed. The photo was taken in an upward angle, emphasizing the pair of blue jeans that Cjay was endorsing. It was also the photo angle’s fault why Natalia noticed that sinful bump of his’ swelling against the crotch area of his jeans.

Cjay’s teasing smirk was the icing on the cake. He captured her annoyance perfectly, an irritation that showed all over face. ‘He really got so much air in his head. He really thinks being a zombie is cool now, huh?’

She lowered her eyes and caught two girls walk past her. There was this mocking look in their eyes, followed by their hysterical laughter when they saw her looking at them. That was when she felt something drip from her lips. Horrified, she felt her chin and realized it was wet with saliva.            Natalia quickly wiped her chin and jaw with her palms before wiping her hands at both sides of her jeans. After recollecting herself, she resumed walking.