Shopping in WorldMart GONE WRONG! (Reimagining FPS)

 He told me we were going out to have dinner.

“Wear something nice, maybe even buy yourself some new makeup.”

I don’t ask what he is implying when he tells me to buy makeup, not because I don't really want to know- trust me, I know- but because I don't want to confirm my notions of his perception of me.

I tell him I'll be gone for a while and head over to WorldMart- surely there will be some cheap lipstick I can buy to impress him there. I enter the store and head for the makeup aisle, hoping to score a good deal on some Maybelline products. I fidget my hands as I walk through the seemingly endless aisles of the store, my hand feels weird, empty almost, but I think nothing of it. I want something bold, something that will make me stand out, maybe a plum or a deep red. I am not especially adept at color matching myself so I just stand in the aisle, sampling products on myself, waiting for someone to come and help me. Two workers come up to me, a young guy and a girl– hopefully they can tell me which shade suits me best. The girl lets out a shriek and the boy looks in my direction, his eyes filled with confusion. Was there something odd or dangerous behind me? Was my outfit mismatched? Was there something in my teeth? I had always worried about how people viewed me. The girl runs, but the boy stays. I show the worker the lipsticks I have, wanting his opinion on what looks best on me. He suggests an earth-toned tube.

“Matches your blouse better.”

I guess I wouldn't do a bold makeup look today. I take the lipstick but it feels different in my hand, like something is missing. The boy hands me a finger, my missing finger. I lodge it into place and thank him. What a nice young man. I continue shopping, now accompanied by the boy. He is nice company. I stop for a moment and look in the mirror. My face looks different, it’s significantly paler than it once was. I hear something about firearms over the intercom but think nothing of it. All that matters to me right now is looking good for my date. 

In front of me is a screen showing a woman that looks just like me. We have similar features- pale, gray, green skin, wrinkles. She is beautiful. For a moment, I stop worrying about how I am perceived. If she can make it on TV, then I guess I'm good enough. Thank you pretty lady on the screen. However, that moment of self acceptance doesn't last for long, as her head gets blown clean off in a few seconds. She is a zombie lady, seen as a monster and brutally murdered. Is this how people see me? Is this how the employees at WorldMart see me? Am I a monster?

The young girl definitely seems to think so, now sporting a hand cannon that is pointed directly at me. That video allowed me to finally see how I was perceived, I wish I could unsee it. At that moment, I wished the girl would blow my head off and subject me to the same fate as the creatures on the screen. Then at least I wouldn't have to worry about my date seeing me for what I truly was, a zombie.

“Put me out of my misery,” I thought.