Closer By The Day | DESUS

Chp 9: Strength

There was so much anger, so much guilt. He knew he couldn't drink it away and he sure as hell couldn't sleep it off either. He just constantly paced, flashbacks invading his mind all at once.
Daryl's fear
The hatchet
The blood
The crunch...and the scream. That god awful scream.

You caused all that.

Paul flipped the table.

His life won't be the same

The chairs were next, flying across the room and hitting the walls.
He took a few breaths and stood there, stairing off into space.
He looked down at his hands. He forgot he was covered in blood the whole time. Paul let out a shuddered breath and slowly made his way to the bathroom. He pushed open the bearly closed door and walked towards the sink. Leaning on it with his blood stained hands, he lifted his head up to see his fucked up reflection stairing back numbly. His hair was slightly frizzy and out of place on one side, his eyes were red from the constant silent crying. Small strands of hair were stuck to one side of his cheek from the tears...and spots of blood that managed to flick in his direction from the hatchet flying back and coming down, then flying back once again.

Bile roze up in his throte, his head swung down as he vomited into the sink, body trembling as everything heaved out of his system, which wasn't much at all. Paul didn't eat anything today besides some breakfast late that morning. It was funny, one minute the two men were in good spirits, besides Gregory being an ass, the next, they were talking on their long drive, Daryl comfoting him about the previous situation then all of a sudden... everything took a turn so huge that none of the good things from today mattered. Not one bit.
Paul desperately tried to numb those thoughts, tried to convince himself that he should be greatful they're both still alive but he wasn't. He imagined Daryl would rather be dead than to be helpless with no leg, he imagined Daryl would no longer want to look at Paul, let alone talk to him again. He couldn't blame him though. He'd be extremely surprised if their friendship remained the same. That was hard to imagine.
He let out a small pained wimper and turned on the cold tap, he roughly rubbed his hands as red water swirled into the drain, he then rubbed up his arms panickly as he tried to wash the horrid reminder off his skin. He swore if he had sandpaper, he'd use it till he bled. He then cupped his now clean hands under the running water, splashing it onto his face rubbing it just as desperately. Paul didn't bother fixing his hair, he just went to the towel rack to dry himself off then looked to change into a clean shirt. His old one ended up in the trash. He didn't give a shit if it was his favorite.

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Two hours passed and Paul could no longer stand being alone with his own thoughts. He needed company but a part of him was scared of it. He didn't think he'd be comfortable sitting in the same room as Tara, Enid or Aaron and Eric. He certainly couldn't stand the thought of going to his best friend, all it took was the memory of Maggie's glares and the thought of seeing that same look again which made him choose to stay clear. The rest seemed to be sided with him but that didn't exactly mean they wanted him around right now, right? They were probably trying to calm down in their own ways. The struggle was, he couldn't stay here either. The eery silence in the trailer was too much. He was supposed to be hearing Daryl's voice right now, or at least his quiet snores from the bedroom.
Fuck it.
If he couldn't be with friends right now or by himself, then he was gonna go to DR. Carson. He figured he now had enough mental strength to be in there, especially now that he'd probably be the only one by this time of night. Hopefully.

He left his trailer feeling the cold crisp air, it was dark and quiet. He jogged to Carson's trailer whilst looking at his surroundings. No one was in sight. After he walked up the steps, he stopped at the door, his fist hesitantly lifted up to it, contemplating on whether this was a wise idea. His chest ached with anxiety once again. Before he could make a second decision, the door creeked open suddenly, startling the small man. He stepped back quickly and to his surprise, Dwight stood in the doorway. Dwight was the first to react. He greeted with a nod stepped to the side without a word, allowing Paul to come in. Paul figured the doctor did all he could and was now asleep in the other room.