This was my life before I died.
17-year-old male.
Went down playing basketball 20 minutes ago.
- I've got no pulse. - He's cyanotic.
Where the hell is our Chief Resident?
Did someone page Dr. Jeffreys?
I need X-ray, Pulse Ox and a central line now.
And the biggest needle and syringe you've got.
We're doing this now.
We should wait for Dr. Jeffreys.
Or not.
Tell Dr. Jeffreys we're good here.
Liv.
It's so weird.
You have all the makings of a nemesis,
but I actually kind of like you.
Want to go to a party tonight?
Oh. I'm not really a party person.
Come on. Show everyone
you're not an over-achieving pain in the ass.
- It's on a boat. - Thanks for the invite, but I have plans.
Next time, though.
So, basically every day of your life
is like the end of Sixteen Candles?
How psyched are people when you're their doctor?
Seriously, if we weren't engaged
I'd be here getting emergency surgery like every other day.
Well, in three months I'm all yours.
Is there any way we can push that up to, like, now?
Just go elope somewhere.
'Cause I'm kind of feeling the need to lock this down.
Oh, so, you're not gonna believe this.
That girl, Marcy, who I thought wanted to kill me.
She invited me to a party.
Wow. So she's embracing your overall perfection
rather than trying to destroy you.
Well played, Marcy the Rival.
- It's on a boat or something. - Tonight? You should go.
Seriously, you're gonna
be stuck with me for the rest of your life.
Go. Tie one on.
What's the worst that could happen?
The worst that can happen?
Try an inexplicable zombie outbreak.
Followed by a sudden desire to eat brains.
I knew that party was gonna blow.
On the other hand, how often can you say you've been changed,
really changed, by a party?
Hey, roomie. I know you probably won't be super into this...
- Okay. - But we thought we'd reinstate Potluck Tuesday.
- We...? - So we can all be together.
On Tuesdays. Like old times, right?
'Cause we all just like love you so much.
And want to make sure that you know that,
because, uh,
well, we're a little concerned.
Very concerned, honey. About your recent behavior.
Which we find to be 100% unlike you.
That's me speaking on behalf of your brother and me.
No, it's not.
What I'm about to say comes from a place of love.
You know that, don't you?
That kind of depends on what you say.
You're throwing away your life.
You traded a topnotch residency at the hospital
for a job at the morgue.
And far be it for me to weigh in on my daughter's personal life,
but you will regret breaking off your engagement
to Major till the end of time.
Place of love.
Do you have any idea how many
women would kill to be with a man like this?
Exactly four. Yeah, I've met 'em.
Quality women.
Yeah. I don't know who they
plan on killing or why they think that's my thing,
but they're super-hot and ready for murder.
I was told that, um,
we wouldn't be bringing up the engagement today.
Just so you know.
It's evidence. It speaks to state of mind.
I was also told we're not putting you on trial.
Hey, you're not on trial.
It's just that you've changed
so drastically since that night on the lake.
In the six years we lived together, you've been this force,
this unstoppable, hyper-focused fireball.
Now you just watch TV all day while lying on the couch.
Like you're in a hospice.
This is the first time you're not volunteering
for the children's hospital haunted house.
And you know how important that is to me.
Okay, I see that this isn't Potluck Tuesday.
It's an intervention.
Told you she'd figure it out.
Okay, I'll... I'll just say it.
We think you have PTSD.
You go to a boat party and
a bunch of crazy drunks start killing each other.
And then the fire...
I can't even imagine what you must've seen.
We think you need professional help though.
I really don't.
But I will try to come down and help out at the haunted house.
I've gotta get to work.
They want to help, I get it.
But my burden is of the bear-it-alone variety.
The really annoying thing is how right they are.
But I don't have post-traumatic stress.
I have post-traumatic ennui.
Post-traumatic defeatism.
Post-traumatic... what's the point?
You have to see this anterior rectus sheath contusion.
It looks exactly like the Virgin Mary holding a Les Paul.
It would be wrong of me
to Instagram that.
Yes, it would.
So, in the five months you've been here,
what's the weirdest thing you've seen?
You drinking cereal milk over a corpse.
I like that you always keep it under 15 syllables.
It gives us a good rhythm.
Working with my last resident
was like prepping for the Newlywed Game.
Oh, what's your favorite color?
How old were you when you first touched a boob?
It's nice to know I can dissect a Jane Doe's spleen
without feeling obligated to list
my top desert island albums.
She's a Jane Doe?
She was found in the back of a garbage truck.
Driver isn't sure where he picked her up.
No ID, no matching prints so far.
The garbage truck was using a crusher,
so that complicates cause of death.
Duty calls.
Suicide.
Or was it murder?
Sew her back up, bag her and box her.
It's probably wrong that every time I see a dead body I think,
What the hell am I doing with my life?
I didn't map out and color code a 10-year plan for this.
This is not me going confidently in the direction of my dreams.
I used to have ambition.
I used to be passionate, inspired...
Alive.
Now, I'm mostly just hungry.
Oh, and a zombie. So, there's that.
I have so many questions.
First, why the hot sauce? Is that a zombie thing?
Everyone knows the party line for the Lake Washington massacre.
Drugged-up college kids. Violent fight breaks out.
The only survivors are the ones smart enough
to jump ship before the fire started.
But I was on duty that night.
Open.
Ah, you see, many of the
victims were missing significant brain mass.
My colleagues attributed this to the fish in the lake.
Because we all know rainbow trout go right for the cranium.
Fish. I mean, it was right there in front of them.
A virus, like rabies, but not.
Something worse.
I'm sorry, I'm confused.
Am I fired or getting a physical?
Fired? I have like a billion questions for you.
I'm contemplating asking you to move in.
How long have you suspected?
Since Raoul Cortez.
The gangbanger, gunshot victim?
You finished the autopsy for me.
Well, the detective on his case needed me to open him back up.
Guess what he was missing?
- A strong male role model? - And a half-pound of brain.
See, after I confirmed that you were a survivor of the massacre,
I started, you know,
opening all the bodies you finished off for me.
Resting heart rate. Ten beats per minute.
How have you been so normal to me?
What am I supposed to be?
Freaked out? Leading torch-wielding villagers to my apartment?
I've been terrified about
somebody finding out about me for months
and you're acting like it's the measles I've contracted.
- So, you know, no one else knows? - God, no.
I mean, that must be hard.
You know, dealing with this on your own.
Did you know I used to work for the CDC?
I got canned. Wanna know why?
Because you believe in zombies?
They got tired of my warnings.
A nuclear war or an asteroid strike is bad,
but the most urgent issue facing humanity?
Man-made plague. Biological warfare.
See, that night on the lake,
people were doing this new designer drug called Utopium.
- Did you partake? - No!
The irony is I don't even go to parties with regular drugs,
let alone fancy new designer drugs.
Hey! You looking to party?
This is Utopium.
It'll fry your brain,
dip it in batter and fry it again.
Having my brain treated like a corn dog. Not so tempting.
You're pretty tempting.
That's when all hell broke loose.
Do tell.
The EMT was too upset about
having accidentally bagged a living girl
to ponder any other possibilities.
With your current condition,
certainly makes drawing blood a challenge.
Just so you know, regarding my unique dietary needs...
I do it as infrequently as possible.
If I don't eat I become dumber, meaner.
And I'm afraid that if I let it go long enough,
- I'll go all George Romero. - The hot sauce?
Pretty much the only way
I can taste anything is if it has at least
six chili peppers next to it on a menu.
The weirdest thing of all...
Dr. Death. What's the story with my Jane Doe?
You ID her yet?
Uh, not yet, Detective.
Uh, we ran her prints through system and got nothing back.
I'll process her dental records next.
Did you find anything in the dumpster that can help us?
Please say vomit.
These.
They aren't police issue. They're novelty.
I am arresting you for shoplifting.
You have the right to retain counsel without delay.
You have the right to free
and immediate legal advice from duty counsel.
Your report said cause of death was blunt force trauma.
You sure it wasn't just a garbage can crushing the skull?
Shoplifting. In Canada.
She was arrested for shoplifting in Vancouver in 2008.
And you know this because...
That's when Obama was elected.
It was just a hunch. Forget it.
Ah, that's a pretty specific hunch.
Detective Babineaux,
my resident, Olivia Moore.
Um, I think Liv's not feeling well.
Could it be something you ate?
So, what? Did she have Moosehead in the bloodstream?
High-Heart shoplifting? Tattoo?
Stefani Germanotta!
Arrested November 6th, 2008, in Vancouver for shoplifting.
The prints match. This is our girl.
Are y'all screwing around with me?
How did you know that? I want a straight answer.
Liv's... a psychic.
Ish...
Fine. That's how we'll play it.
Everyone screws with the new guy.
Tell me that was brain-related.
It's one of the side-effects.
When I eat a brain I get visions.
Flashes of memories, or dreams.
I don't know exactly what they are,
but it feels like being on somebody else's acid trip.
Do you mind
if I run a cognitive evaluation before the end of your shift?
And maybe get a few saliva samples?
Mind? It's what I live for.
They call death the eternal sleep.
But I haven't slept in five months.
I tortured myself obsessing over every worst-case scenario,
like my best friend catching me eating brains,
or my brother being consumed
in a zombie apocalypse I unwittingly bring on.
But it's not like I can talk it out
or confide in my loved ones about what's going on with me.
I have no idea who I am anymore.
What purpose, if any, I serve.
But the real question is why do I suddenly,
desperately need a handful of plastic eyeballs?
Look who decided to join the human race.
What station do you want? Tombstones? Blood splatter?
I don't really care.
Kind of your personal motto lately.
Liv! Oh!
I can't tell you how happy it makes me to see you here.
Let's see, where to put you?
Where to put you, um...
Why don't you grab a hammer
and head over to where they're building the mad scientist's lab?
Oh! Over there with my ex-fiance?
Sly, Mom.
How about I paint tombstones instead?
I genuinely don't understand you anymore.
Sorry, Mom. No way in hell
I'm risking giving the man I love zombie.
Here's Johnny!
KSTW news.
Johnny Frost with up-to-the-minute weather.
You saw KSTW's own Johnny Frost murder our Jane Doe?
Just the pre-murder part.
You have to tell Detective Babineaux.
I was kind of hoping you could do that.
You're the one who told him I was a psychic.
I'm having a hard enough time pretending I'm alive,
let alone throwing a performance as a psychic into my repertoire.
Liv.
You ate the girl's temporal lobe.
Going to the police with her
potential murderer is the least you can do.
You're not in vice anymore, Babineaux.
This is Homicide.
Time to step up your game.
Miss Cleo. Tell me,
is my day going to get worse?
- Hell if I know. - Yeah, that's what I thought.
Look, I saw something I thought you should know about.
Oh, saw with your eyes or saw with your gift?
I think those guys want your Bad Romance.
Unless singing Gaga around the station is a cop thing.
Only after one of their peers proudly reports Stefani Germanotta
as the name of the murder victim.
That name you gave me is Lady Gaga's real name.
So you know...
The Jane Doe must've given that name to the police
when she was arrested in Vancouver. It's still the girl.
Been in homicide two months without a collar.
Lieutenant's breathing down my neck, and I'm back to square one.
Like I said, I saw something.
I think I saw who killed her.
That's great. Do tell.
I'll pick him up, maybe grab some lunch.
What'd you say his name was again?
Johnny Frost.
The weather man for Channel 11?
Look, I brought the info to you,
you can do with it what you will.
So, you just come up in here,
dump a pile of crazy on my lap
and expect me to put my reputation
on the line by grilling this guy?
Yeah, I guess. Bye.
No, no, no, no, no. It's not gonna work like that.
Let's you and me go talk to the weatherman.
Wait. Me?
What?
And that high pressure system is gonna move right through here
and with it comes the cuddle-up weather, folks.
Start making that hot cocoa.
We're talking low 50s.
That's great, Johnny. That's great.
Yep. That is definitely the guy from my vision.
Can I go now?
Oh, hell no.
We're about to know whether
you're the real deal or a one-trick pony.
Oh, what? You're gonna say,
my psychic friend here says you're a murderer.
Sign this confession?
Nope. Won't need to.
When he sees this photo, his reaction will
let us know how psychic you really are.
Excuse me, Mr. Frost.
Oh. Happy to! Who do I make it out to?
Seattle Police Department.
I take it you know her.
I don't.
Any more questions,
you can ask with my lawyer present.
You could use some sun, young lady.
Here's Johnny!
Did she record our sessions?
Look. I am a beloved public figure.
Isn't there something we could do to just make this go away?
Generally speaking, murder isn't something we just let slide.
Murder? Tatiana's dead?
Can you account for your whereabouts Monday evening?
I was here,
on live TV at 6:00 and 11:00 doing the weather.
I have 100,000 eye witnesses.
I'm gonna need you to tell me
everything you know about Tatiana.
See, role playing.
The trophy wife and the intruder was one of our go-tos.
How do you even know about this?
Did you talk to Tess?
- Who's Tess? - Her friend.
- Have they worked together a lot? - I don't know.
I only doubled the fun once on my birthday.
You have an address for her?
It's not like I sent her a Christmas card.
Call me if you think of anything else.
I guess I should be grateful there's only one of me.
If my zombie movie research has taught me anything,
it's that being part of a horde would suck.
Are you sure about being the only one?
There were other survivors.
I'm not positive.
It's one of the things that keeps me up at night.
But it's been five months,
I feel like there'd be some buzz on the street
if we were mid-zombie apocalypse.
Zombies!
I would be a dangerous man
after the zombies came.
I wouldn't be making any rookie mistakes.
Is that a scratch on my grandmother? Blam!
Hasta la vista, Mee-Ma.
- Chivalry is dead. - But Clive's alive.
You got an hour?
To do that voodoo that you do.
I haven't had any more visions.
You said they were triggered when you saw the stuff
the victim saw, heard or smelled,
so I made an appointment with Tatiana's friend Tess.
So...
So, I need you to come with me and smell, look and listen.
It won't take long, just a couple of sniffs
and a quick look-see,
then it's back to your lair, Dark Princess.
- Say what? - Cause you know, you're all...
I don't know what you are. Emo? Goth?
Which is the one who's too tortured to go on living?
What I am is a doctor who is too busy to do your job for you.
You're a doctor who is watching a movie.
You should go.
Technically, helping with the investigation is part of the job.
This Tess girl also has a clean record.
I mean, that's two girls who come up on the first page
of an Internet search for Seattle Escorts
and not an arrest between them.
Well, maybe cops should google more.
See, that's what I'm talking about.
That whole whatever vibe? I mean, what's with that?
Why are you so concerned with my vibe?
I find it perplexing.
I'm standing in a hallway waiting to smell a call girl.
This is vibe appropriate.
Ma'am.
Costs double for two.
Oh, sorry, no English.
- What is that? Russian? - Romanian.
Romanian mean girl.
What do you want, cop? I'm busy.
Well, I know for a fact you've got the next hour free.
I booked your time.
Everything okay, Tess?
They hassling you? She has rights.
It's okay, Truman. Go back inside.
Thank you for your citizenship.
We're here to ask about a business associate of yours, Tatiana.
Tatiana!
What has she done this time, huh?
I'm sorry to have to tell you,
Tatiana is dead.
She was murdered.
When was the last time you saw her?
I don't know anything.
Miss...miss, please come out and talk to us.
We could use your help.
Did you work with her on the night of the 16th?
We don't even have a full name for Tatiana, Tess.
Her family needs to be notified.
Is that her real name?
Tatiana Korzha.
This is Tatiana's place?
Do you know how many people I'd have to sleep with
to afford this neighborhood?
I know what she was, but she always paid her rent on time.
Oh, my!
Thank you. We'll take it from here.
Do whatever you do. Just try not to move things around too much.
Whoever ransacked this place left Tatiana's purse.
Stereo, TV.
It wasn't a robbery.
Here's her phone.
Tess called her the day she died.
The 16th, right?
It's for you.
Hey, you little klepto,
get your ass back up to the suite.
Or we are never gonna work with you again.
We?
So, there was another girl there that night.
- It sounds like Tatiana stole something. - Look at all this crap.
Klepto starts to make sense.
So much sense.
Eating Tatiana's brain didn't just give me some of her memories,
it gave me kleptomania and the ability to speak Romanian.
So you were what you've eaten isn't just a bitchy thing
my mother says about fat people.
I don't have it! It's not here!
Where's my friggin' ring? I know you have it!
Please...my foot is slipping!
Hey. You okay?
I just saw her die.
We need to find who did this and nail his ass to the wall.
So,
some psychotic bastard tripled the fun with three call girls
and is willing to murder to get his stolen ring back?
She's gone. Whatever you told her sent her running.
It's her body, you know.
Did she say where she was going?
Like I'm gonna tell you.
Hey! Karl Marx!
There's one girl dead already.
We're trying to stop that number from going up.
Oh, God. Uh...
Tess didn't say where she was going.
She had a couple of suitcases,
and she asked me to pick up her mail. Um...
Sorry about the other girl.
Wait, it wasn't Monica, was it?
Monica?
Uh, friend of Tess'. She came around here a lot.
- They work together? - I hope not.
Well, she seemed like a kid to me.
I never thought of her in that way.
Sure you didn't.
Monica's listed under Tatiana's other friends. Is this her?
Yeah.
Yo! Dirty Debbie Harry! Slow your roll.
I'm supposed to be at work,
and I'm afraid I'm gonna find
this Monica girl waiting in a drawer for me.
We've gotta do something.
What happened to, do with it what you will?
Where's that girl?
When Tatiana was falling to her death, I could feel it.
She knew she was gonna die. It's personal now.
Okay. We're gonna find her.
I would've heard if a new body had turned up.
I'll track down her address.
You think your boss will let you come with me?
I have very little doubt about that.
Yeah, when Internal Affairs asked me about chest poking...
I saw nothing.
Of course you can help the detective.
A call girl gets murdered.
You eat her brains. Help find her killer.
It's like that Elton John song.
Philadelphia Freedom?
The one from The Lion King.
Yes, Sir Elton specifically
references dead call girls in The Circle of Life.
O.M. Is that me?
And you're giving me E.Coli?
I'm treating your blood with different bacteria.
It's all just preliminary research.
If you want to find a cure,
you have to know how a disease defends itself.
The more scenarios you expose it to,
the more you know how it works.
Wait. You think you can cure this?
It could take years.
It's an uphill battle but so was polio.
Why did you think I was running all those tests?
What... You were expecting to stay like this forever?
As a matter of fact, I was.
Great. Thank you, Sergeant.
I got an address for Monica. Let's roll.
Sorry. Something's come up.
There's this thing I need to do.
Wait, that's it?
Thought I had a psychic sidekick.
I was working on the bit...
Cagney and Pasty.
Major wanted to know if there was a chance for us.
I thought shutting him down was noble.
But what if there is hope?
Even if it's dim and somewhere in the nebulous future,
it's a hope I need in order to survive.
But what about what Major needs?
Can I really ask him to wait for a day that may never come?
When you die, life goes on without you.
If you're among the living dead, you're around to watch.
Giving up my dream of becoming a heart surgeon was depressing.
Eating brains sucks beyond words.
But seeing Major possibly moving on with someone else?
That's my threshold.
That's the soul crusher.
You wanted to see me, Lieutenant?
Pratt here has a CI who's got a lead on the dead girl.
He's gonna run the case from here on out.
But I'm so close, sir.
The killer was one of Tatiana's johns.
The john's ring was stolen,
and he killed her trying to get it back.
Only she didn't have it.
I've got a witness that says
one of them got out of Dodge with a suitcase,
and it looks like the other one left with her dog.
Three call girls?
Who are we looking for, Superman? Ron Jeremy?
I've got leads on the girls.
One of them is enrolled at one of those online colleges.
She logged into her economics class an hour ago.
I've got an IP address.
The nerds in computer forensics are working on a location for me.
Sir, we need to find these girls before the killer does.
Well, maybe Pratt will let you tag along
if that address amounts to anything.
Babineaux.
Yeah.
I'm sorry about that, man.
Low guy on the totem pole always gets boned, right?
But hey, it'll make it that much sweeter
when you bag your first collar, right?
Look, do me a favor.
Follow up on some of your interviews.
Talk to the weatherman.
Have another conversation with Tess' neighbor.
Please, I appreciate it.
Mmm, all right.
Thank you.
Weird question, have you seen my pens?
Great, thanks.
I so wanna write you off.
I so wanna be in that
"you can't help those who don't help themselves" place. But,
despite all of this...
You're my freakin' heart.
So, if you could step up, I'd appreciate it.
Okay.
I can't refuse to be dead.
I can't eat a ham sandwich
and feel like a sated normal human being.
I can't have sex,
or tell the people I love what's going on with me,
but I can choose
not to have a drawer full of fake eyeballs and strangers' tchotchkes.
I can choose to be a decent person.
I can choose to help find justice for a fellow dead girl.
Ma'am? Can I help you?
Uh, I'm from the ME's office.
I wanted to see Detective Babineaux.
Um, I'm sorry, he's out.
I've got, uh, computer forensics on the line for Babineaux.
They got that address for those girls.
This is Pratt.
Great, thank you.
Um, do you want me to leave him a message?
I'm good.
Okay.
Hey. Just looking for you.
Yeah, I'm sure you're incredibly busy, but...
No, I'm not. I'm back on the case.
What do you need?
Johnny Frost said Tatiana had a
babbos daypork, or deerpork, something like that.
- You mean barbos de porc? - Oh, okay.
It means bearded pig.
Tatiana had a bearded pig.
You sure you're saying that right?
No, that can't be it.
Wait...
Son of a bitch.
That's why none of the girls have a record.
He's a cop.
A bearded cop. It's Pratt.
There's no CI.
He wanted me off the case before I solved it.
Wait, is Pratt the detective who sits one desk over from you?
- Yeah. - He knows where the girls are.
He has the address.
Damn! That really works.
What do you not understand?
I need immediate backup. These girls are in real danger.
I'll pass along your message, Detective.
Controlling, relentless, vindictive,
schizo crazy bitch.
My wife is like Satan with a fat ass.
If she comes home from Boca
and I don't have my wedding ring...
Did I mention it was her grandpa's ring?
You want to hear the gory details that the ring survived Dachau
and her grandfather did not?
Which one of you ladies is gonna tell me where my ring is?
You'd be my favorite.
There's Pratt's car.
I don't want to get any closer in case he hears us.
- Stay here. - What else am I gonna to do?
Subdue him with a good verbal flogging?
I'm just saying, don't get intrepid.
Tatiana was always stealing things. She couldn't help it.
Yes, you told me that.
But she didn'tave it.
I saw the look in her eye.
Where is my ring?
- I pawned it! - Monica!
I needed the money for school,
and I knew Tatiana would take the blame
because she steals things.
You do see how this is your fault?
I am not gonna live in a one-room apartment
while my wife gets half my salary!
You killed Tatiana! You did! I didn't want this.
Upstairs! He ran upstairs!
No. No, no, no.
Get out of the car!
Get out of that car or I'll shoot you!
Get out of the car. Get out of that car!
Liv!
What the hell?
Liv!
I saw you get shot.
He missed.
I played dead and then I just chased after his car.
Adrenaline is no joke.
Too intrepid?
Way too intrepid.
- Tess and Monica? - Yeah, they're okay.
Why is there a bullet hole in the roof of my car?
Maybe he was celebrating drunk cowboy style.
I don't know. Literally,
I got here like two seconds before you did.
He was about to kill them.
We got here just in time.
Thanks to you.
And you.
I mean, you drove.
Seriously, how did you solve crime before me?
I feel I'm kind of vital to this whole operation.
Want me to check him out? I am a doctor.
Go see to the girls.
I got this.
You're right.
This is so much sweeter.
I got mad and suddenly I was 99% zombie.
Like 28 Days Later style,
but with a side of Rage Bomb.
I was a dead, alabaster badass.
I'm performing open heart surgery on you without anesthesia.
You're beyond badass. There it is.
I mean, I'd offer to stitch you up,
but there isn't even much blood.
Must take the pressure off
when your patient's already dead.
Hey, you have to stop calling yourself that.
You're not dead. You're undead.
Big difference.
Just think about what you did tonight.
You saved two women's lives.
You got justice for another,
and you got a very bad man off the streets.
And as God is my witness,
you'll never be hungry again.
Fresh brains for later.
But now, let's get to work. Shall we?
Life's short and then you die.
And then... then you have to make some decisions.
You can skulk around,
lamenting all that you've lost,
try to keep yourself numb and isolated.
Or you can embrace who you are.
I heard there'd be brains.
Aw, man. See, now I want to be a zombie.
It's kind of a commitment.
You gotta lock down a whole lifeless but crazy stare.
And then there's the brain-eating and the dance moves.
You make an awesome zombie.
- Don't I though? - Yeah.
Who wants to go scare the crap out of some kids?
Have you seen your sister?
She told me she would help with tickets.
Of course that would require her to make it off her couch.
I don't think making it off her couch was an issue.
I wanted to do something with my life.
I wanted to help people.
Not necessarily as a zombie psychic who eats murder victim brains,
but still...
I so nailed it today.
I've spent five months bemoaning all that was taken from me.
It never occurred to me that I'd have something to give.
A way to contribute.
A reason for being not alive.
To sleep, perchance to not dream.
All I needed was some hope
that there's a future that I fit into somehow.
At last.
Sweet blissful sleep.
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