Dead love in my hands (Troy Otto story/ Fear the walking dead/ ftwd)

Mistake

"I looked in the Bible, on the motel table, for a description of some great destruction. "The sun rose over the earth, and Lot came to Sihor. And the Lord rained down upon Sodom and Gomorrah sulphur and fire from the Lord from heaven. And he destroyed these cities, and all this neighbourhood, and all the inhabitants of these cities, and the growths of the earth." That kind of thing. Both cities, as we know, had a lot of nasty people in them. The world is a better place without them.And Lot's wife, of course, was told not to look back where all those people and their homes had been. But she did look back, and I love her for that, because it was so human."

Kurt Vonnegut "Slaughterhouse-Five or The Children's Crusade: A Duty-Dance with Death"

Half an hour into the journey it dawned outside. Troy and I were discussing quite loudly where we would start looking for Michael when we got to El Bazar. At that moment, Clara woke up.

"What are you guys shouting about! How much is too much!"

"You better tell me how long you can sleep!" said Troy with a laugh.

"Why, did I sleep long?"

"Well, that's the next day," I smiled at my sister.

"Really!!! It's withdrawal syndrome. I need to perk up."

"What are you talking about?" Troy tensed up.

"Did you drink last night?" I asked my sister.

"Better than I drank!" said Clara with a mysterious smirk. She quickly reached into the pocket of her bag and pulled out a bag of something white.

"What's this?" Troy turned around, looking towards the road.

"What do you think it is?" Clara was still smirking.

"Are you out of your mind!!! Is that dope?! Where did it come from!!!" I looked at my sister with eyes full of shock.

"You care so much about where it came from?" Clara laughed.

"Of course. How long have you been taking it?"

"Just spoiling myself sometimes. Want some?"

Troy braked abruptly without turning round, reached back and said roughly:

"Give it to me!"

"What?"

Suddenly Otto turned around, grabbed Clara's package, then threw it out the window and hit the gas.

"Are you crazy?"

"I don't want to see or hear any more of this. I don't have time to babysit a junkie. I didn't sign up for this. We're going to find your boyfriend and you're going to leave us, okay?"

"Troy, she's my sister! Stop saying that!"

"I've got bad news for you, sunshine, your sister is a drug addict! "

Clara leaned back in her chair like a child who's had her favourite toy taken away. Troy's right, It's inadequate. Especially when your life is in danger of turning into a vegetable every day and without dope. One bite. That's all it takes. You have to be sane to survive.

We rode in silence for about ten minutes. Then Troy broke the silence:

"I see an abandoned place over there," he pointed his finger forward without taking his hand off the steering wheel, "I suggest we stop, get something to eat, I'll sleep for half an hour, and then we'll drive on, okay?"

I nodded in agreement. Clara didn't react.

The abandoned house was big. It even had a bedroom. There was dusty linen on the bed, I shook it out, and Troy fell face first into the pillow and mumbled.

"Are you going to lie down with me?"

"No, I'm going to Clara's."

"Della," he turned round, his voice clear and ringing, "let's lie together for half an hour, for there's no telling when we'll have that opportunity now."

"And that uncertainty is your fault, Troy. If we were at the ranch, we could lie together as long as we wanted..... Besides, you need sleep, you said so yourself. I'm afraid I won't let you rest if I stay," I smiled playfully, biting my lip. Troy laughed. And to his laughter, I walked out of the bedroom.

When I walked into the living room where we were having dinner, I saw that Clara was still sitting at the table. She sat with her arms crossed over her chest and her head thrown back. I was ready to hear everything she thought about Troy and his decision to throw the bag away. That my sister was using wasn't news to me. She'd done it before. She even went to rehab once, but it didn't help. One way or another, she kept going back to drugs. But when the apocalypse started, I thought it would cure her. I even forgot for a while that she was once an addict. I mean, there's nowhere to get it now. No drugs, no problem. But, um. I guess there's no getting away from it.

As I came closer, I saw a strange smile on her face. Then I looked at the table: a crooked track of white powder. I understood why she was relatively calm about the discarded bag. Troy had only thrown away one bag; she had more.

"You can't hold out until we find Michael?!"

"Why should I? I have happiness in its purest form. Try it!"

"I don't want to."

"Are you afraid of Troy?"

"Why should I be afraid of him?" shook my head.

"Well he looks like a tyrant. Yes he is a tyrant. I'm also aware of the events of his military life. Someone told me about his antics.... so if you're afraid of him, I'm not surprised. He's a crazy man."

"You're the crazy one. "

"Then what's the matter? Try it. It's not scary. One time won't do anything. Comfort your sister."

"No. I won't. And it's time for you to knock it off too," I started to walk away.

"You always leave me alone with my problems. Like that time, remember?"

Her words paralysed me. What a bitch. That time. How could she talk about it in that context. But yeah. I felt guilty. Even if it wasn't my fault. The mucus was spreading in my chest. "That time ..." I know what she meant...

One time she used too much and called me. Clara said if I didn't come, she'd kill herself. But I hung up. She did that a lot of times. She'd call, threaten suicide, and end up sober in the morning and forget all about it. But not this time. That's when she actually cut her wrists. She was only found because her flatmate came home earlier than usual. Of course, I blamed myself. But how could I have known? 

"Don't leave me, Della. Just this once. Stay with me. Feel everything with me."

I don't know what moved me, but I turned, looked at my sister, then silently walked to the table, bent over the track and dropped it to the floor. Some of the powder scattered instantly. Some of it hung in the air. The wind from the open window blew the powder across the room. Clara was furious. She quickly pulled out a knife and attacked me.