Deadland

Chapter 53- Thoughts

(TW!! Mentions of past overdosage, suicide, abuse, and self-harm!!)

I'm trying to keep a strong, brave facade but I'm terrified. What if Alyssa is dead? What if Damien is dead? Daryl's not dead, he never dies who am I kidding? 

What if I never see any of them again? I love Michonne and all but...I can't live without Alyssa and Damien. 

"So..." Michonne starts, looking at me as we walk through the woods. 

The air is crisp and cold, the wind is blowing slightly and the sun is shining after it rained last night; which was great for having no roof over our head. We ended up just sitting under trees and waiting for it to pass, I'm pretty sure I smell like a wet dog. 

"So?" 

"Tell me the story about PBND again." 

 I sigh, "It was my first overdose-" 

"First?" 

"Oh shit. You-oh my god. So. Full debrief on what happened at the farm." Michonne nods, though she and I are both not the happiest right now, when we're together and talking, it feels normal again. We're still not at our full...us but it's close enough.

"Basically...I fell in love with Glenn but I refused to believe it because of my past relationship with Nick. I realized it too late and I caught him and Maggie kissing. I went into my tent and took the whole world's worth of drugs. Cut. And passed out. I woke up a few hours later. I'm surprised I woke up so quickly. Seemed a little too quick but whatever." 

Michonne looks at me, "Glenn?" I scoff, 

"I dunno! He was the first person I opened up to about Nick and I just...that's why him and I never really speak. I mean he tries to speak to me but we just don't clash like we used to. He has no idea about why I overdosed and as of currently, I don't plan on him ever knowing." 

"Wait." She puts her arm out in front of me and stops me. 

I follow her pointing finger to a trail of cowboy bootprints and tennis shoe prints in the mud in front of us. 

She doesn't say anything, she just walks past it and into the woods. 

I don't suggest following them because they could be anybody's. 

It's silent again like it has been for a few hours before our short little conversation. 

"Jesus, talk a little more." Nick groans. We're sitting at a dinner table out at Wendy's. This was his idea of a "nice date" after his friend offered him thirty bucks to take me out (though, he doesn't know I know about the offer). 

"What is there to talk about?" I ask, biting into my burger. 

"Well, you never seem to be able to shut the fuck up and I'm sick of this music. I'd rather listen to your ramblings than...this." I scoff, 

"You hate my 'ramblings' so why would you-" I jump as his fist slams on the table. Everyone looks at us, 

"Sorry." He says, "There was a fly." He looks back at me as I slowly set my burger down, "Don't speak to me like that." His arms cross and he leans back in his chair. His blonde hair is messy from the hangover after last night and his brown eyes are narrowed.  

"I already told you, I'm sick of this music. So, talk." His voice is firm and his teeth are gritting. 

Blood splatters on my face, "Jesus, Adrian. That Walker was right in front of you." Michonne says, lowering her sword.