Orange Zombie Dog

I felt like a zombie, shuffling through the crowded hallways of Northwood High. Junior year was eating me alive, one standardized test at a time. My phone buzzed — group chat blowing up about Jessica's party tonight.

"You coming?" asked Marcus, falling into step beside me at his locker. "It's the Orange Party — everything's orange themed. Gonna be lit."

I shrugged. "Maybe. Not really feeling it today."

"Bro, you say that every time. Live a little!" Marcus fist-bumped my shoulder and bounced away to homeroom.

The truth was, I wasn't just tired — I was questioning everything. My friends were all obsessed with college applications and TikTok followers. Meanwhile, I was secretly applying to art school, knowing my parents would lose it if they found out. Living a double life was exhausting.

That afternoon, I skipped the party prep and walked to the park instead. That's where I found him — a scruffy golden dog with the most human-like eyes I'd ever seen. He was sitting near the old oak tree, staring at me like he understood my entire existential crisis.

"Hey, buddy," I said, sitting beside him. "You look like you've seen some things."

The dog leaned into my hand when I petted him. For the first time in months, I actually breathed. No expectations, no performative happiness, just me and this random orange-furred creature who didn't care about my GPA or social status.

My phone buzzed again. Parties. Plans. Pressure. I turned it off.

"You know what?" I told the dog. "I think I'm done being a zombie."

The dog barked once, like he approved.

That night, while everyone else was at the Orange Party posting aesthetic photos, I sat in my room and finally finished my art portfolio application. The dog — I named him Rusty — showed up at the park every day after school. He became my co-conspirator, my therapist, my reminder that some things in life were simple.

Three months later, when my art school acceptance letter arrived, I went straight to the park. Rusty bounded toward me, his orange coat blazing in the sunlight like he knew.

Some zombies eventually find their way back to life. Mine just happened to be orange and furry.