The Dead Live!

Story Submitted by Robert:

When I was in college, I met Melinda at a party.  Within an hour, I had her number, and at least a vague commitment from her to hanging out sometime in the future.

A couple of days later, I called her, and we talked for about two hours about everything.  It was great.  I offered to take her out to dinner that Saturday night, and she accepted the offer.

Each subsequent time I called her that week, just to say hi, her phone went to voicemail and she didn't call me back.  Maybe she was busy.  I didn't sweat it until the Saturday of our date.

That day, I called, it rang a couple of times, and a girl I didn't know picked up.  "Hello?"

I asked, "Hi.  Is Melinda there?"

"Melinda?  Sorry you have the wrong... um... no... she's busy.  Yes.  Being... dead."

I said, "Oh.  Could you tell her that Rob called to confirm tonight?"

I heard laughter, then I was disconnected.  Thing was, I didn't know if Melinda put someone up to that, or if a roommate was playing a joke.  I tried her again after a couple of hours, and it went to voicemail.  Last time (or, the only time) we had spoken by phone, I had offered to pick her up at her place, a house she was subletting.  That remained my plan.

When I arrived at her house, another coed answered the door.  I asked for Melinda, and the girl said, "I told you before, didn't I?  She's dead!  Dead, dead, dead!"

Another girl emerged from another room and joined the first one in chanting, "Dead, dead, dead!"  Then another girl.  Then a fourth one.  Having four strange women chant, "Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead!" to me over and over isn't a pleasant experience, and not one I'll soon forget.

I backed away from the door, expecting them to slam it shut, but they didn't.  They walked after me, down their front walk.  One of them pointed, and then the other three followed suit.  "Dead, dead!  Dead, dead, dead, dead!"  If they were trying to freak me out, it was working.

What they didn't count on, though, was the sudden idea I had to run past them and bust into their house to find Melinda, myself.  Stupid?  Yes, in retrospect, but I was in college.  Before my better judgment could take over, I had run past them and into the house.  Their cries of "Dead!" became, "Hey!"  "What the?" and "Stop!"

I slammed the door shut behind myself and locked it.  "Melinda?" I called from downstairs.  I wasn't going to search the rooms for her, and I calculated that I had about ten seconds before escaping would become less and less of a possibility.

From upstairs, her voice came, "Go away!  I'm dead!"

Four angry college women were banging on the door behind me, and there I was, stuck in the house with a "dead" girl.  I shouted upstairs, "Here I come," and cackled some insane laughter, then made a break for the back door and ran about five blocks away.

Didn't hear from Melinda or her friends after that, but hopefully, she won't make the mistake of calling in dead to a date again.  The nerve!