I live to write. And my characters live because I write. But that doesn't necessarily mean I can control what they do or say all of the time. They tend to have minds of their own. And whenever they get bored, which is quite often, they pop in on my life. This is my story, or rather, I should say their story.

It was friday, family night, and we all went out to eat. Tonight it was Teriyaki, and we sat at a table with the chef cooking right in front of us. I'd brought a notebook with me and was writing in secret while my parents lectured my rebellious older brother for what seemed like the millionth time. He'd gotten suspended from school for a week, apparently. Although I wouldn't be surprised if he'd just made it up to get out of going to school. I sighed and blocked them out, turning my full attention to my writing.

"Romi laughed at the picture her friend had shown her. It was of last year's halloween party when the two of them had dressed up as zombies. They refused to follow the crowd and had walked past all the slutty nurses and under-dressed cheerleaders, covered in dirt and wearing baggy, ripped sweaters. Everyone had given them strange looks, but one glare from Romi had left them quaking in their heels."

Anna smiled at the page until a voice stirred her from her thoughts,

"Zombies, huh?" Anna looked up to see a tall girl with fire-red hair standing just behind her mother's chair. She was wearing a black T-shirt and ripped jean shorts that showed off her ridiculously long legs. She flashed Anna a smile, and walked over to her, taking the seat next to Anna's and sitting on it backwards.

"I would've chosen gremlins or trolls or something, but zombies are acceptable." Anna smiled back,

"Hey, Romi.