Since we last spoke, I have NOT been expelled. We'll get to the zombies later because the BIG news to start off with isn't mutant brain-eaters, it's that (drumroll, please!) I, Rafe Khatchadorian, have managed to stay enrolled at Hills Village Middle School for more than a minute. On a good day-like, a really good day-I look like this: Three weeks ago I didn't know a single person in Australia, let alone a zombie, and now I had a baying mob of the undead at the front door. It takes a lot to make that many Australian zombies mad, but I, Rafe Khatchadorian, had managed it in just a few short weeks. In a weird way, though, a small part of me was kind of proud. Call me selfish, but I want to keep as much of my blood as I possibly can, for as long as I can. Very specifically, they wanted my blood, which was a real problem. The seriously messed-up truth was that these guys wanted BLOOD-and lots of it. That hope faded quickly when they started chanting: "WE WANT RAFE! WE WANT RAFE!" It could be that the zombies had other delicious victims in mind besides the untasty and downright bony Rafe Khatchadorian of Hills Village. Despite the pitchforks, there was, however, one tiny ray of hope that I could cling to: maybe it wasn't me they were after.
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