Zombie Dreams and Lightning Strikes

Marcus dragged himself through the hallway feeling like a total zombie. Three hours of sleep, thanks to that history project, would do that to you. His dog Buster tugged at the leash, basically forcing him outside into the blinding afternoon sun.

"You good, bro?" Kevin called from across the street, spinning a baseball on his finger. "You look dead."

"Living the dream," Marcus muttered, adjusting his backpack. Every conversation felt like walking through fog lately.

The baseball tryouts were tomorrow, and Marcus's stomach did backflips every time he thought about it. Jason—the absolute bull of the eighth grade, built like a tank and twice as intimidating—had been talking smack all week. Jason this, Jason that. The guy was everywhere, like a bad rash you couldn't scratch.

"You're trying out?" Kevin raised an eyebrow. "Against Jason?"

"Maybe." Marcus shrugged. "Probably not."

That afternoon, the sky turned that weird purple-green color. Lightning streaked across the clouds like cracks in a broken screen. Marcus sat on his porch, watching the storm roll in, phone blowing up with group chats he couldn't deal with answering.

Then he saw it—Jason's dog, a massive pitbull mix, chasing something down the street. The dog was fast, powerful, completely unleashed. And behind it? Jason, running like he'd never run before, screaming commands that fell on deaf ears.

The bull of eighth grade was terrified. Of his own dog.

Marcus didn't think. He just moved, feet carrying him off the porch, calling out commands his own dog had taught him. The pitbull skidded to a halt, confused but responsive. By the time Jason caught up, wheezing and red-faced, Marcus had the dog sitting calmly.

"Dude," Jason gasped, hands on his knees. "How'd you do that?"

Marcus looked at the pitbull, then at the guy who'd been haunting his nightmares all week. Suddenly, Jason wasn't a monster anymore. Just some kid who couldn't control his dog.

"My dog's basically a genius," Marcus said, a tiny smile creeping onto his face. "I could teach you."

The lightning flashed again, closer this time. They both started running toward Jason's house as the first drops hit.

"Tomorrow," Jason yelled over the thunder. "Tryouts. You're coming, right?"

"Wouldn't miss it."

That night, Marcus dreamed of baseball diamonds and lightning storms. For the first time in weeks, the zombie feeling was gone. The world still felt overwhelming, but somehow, he was ready to play.