Just Gone

[25] People Lie, Actions Don't

After answering I rushed passed them all, down the stairs and out of the house. I needed to get away from everyone, I felt as if something was tightening around my chest, causing my heart to pound against it, I could barely breathe.

Outside, I ran into Daryl, I kept my head down and kept going, hoping he wouldn't stop me. I knew he was looking at me and after a few short moments, I heard the front door open and close behind me, telling me he went inside. As I got closer to the tents I looked behind me, not looking all that closely but quickly checking that no one was there.

When I didn't see anyone, I looked back at Daryl's tent. After a few moments of just staring, gasping for air I tried to unzip the tent. It took me a few tries because my hands were shaking.

What the hell is wrong with me?

I went over to my bag, beside it was my knife sheath. I quickly grabbed one of the knives and climbed out of the tent, not bothering to zip it back up.

I didn't look behind me that time as I started running. I ran into the wooded area, getting deeper and deeper into the forest. I didn't think to look for Walkers or set markers, I knew I was being stupid, I just couldn't get myself to care at that moment.

Running had me gasping for air, and as soon as I felt I was far enough, I stopped running. I took the deepest inhale I could, and then I screamed. It wasn't a high pitched squeal, more like a deep cry of frustration. Then I turned to the closest tree, lifted my knife and stabbed it. As I kept stabbing the tree, bark was starting to come off. Not all of my swings hit the right spot causing me to leave scratch marks.

I was doing this for several moments before my arm started to feel tired. I stopped my actions and placed my forehead on the mutilated tree, leaning against it.

Something touched my shoulder and I freaked out. My entire body tensed, I accidentally dropped my knife and all I could think about was the Walker that might have a hold of me. Without giving it much thought, I spun around. I pushed whatever it was off of me with one hand, and with the other I practically threw my closed fist at it. It was knocked to the ground and I made a quick movement to pick up my knife. But then I realized what it was.

"Carl?!" I yelled as he sat up. "What the fuck?!"

"What are you yelling at me for? He grumbled, beginning to stand. "You're the one that hit me."

"You're the one that scared the fuck out of me! I thought you were a Walker!" My heart was still racing. I tried my best to calm the adrenalin pumping through my body. For a brief moment, I thought pushing him might help, so I did that.

"Ow!" He protested as my push sent him to the ground again.

I rolled my eyes, "your face hurts more then that did."

"So what? It still hurt." His hand went to his cheek, there was a red mark from where my fist collided into his face.

I took a deep breath, threaded my hands through my hair, pulling it a little in frustration, "fuck." I wasn't sure why, but swearing seemed to help me feel better. I felt like my body was angry with me, it had gone into adrenalin, ready to run or fight. And now I was denying it of both.

Damn it. Why Carl?

"You shouldn't swear."

"Fuck," I said again, purely for defiance reasons. "Why are you even out here? You're going to get in trouble, again."

"And you're not?"

His response made me think it over, and I decided to test something on him.

"So what if I do?" I asked as he stood up. "What're they going to do? Beat me?"