To many mistakes

ch. 15

They said when life gives you lemons, you make lemonade, but you can't if someone smashes them with their foot.

Beutiful Sophia was only 12. I never met her but the pity I held for Carol and Daryl was enough to make the tears fall freely.

The image of everyone's sullen faces and Carol clutching her dead daughters body was heartbreaking. Surely my sister would have woken up with all the crying and gun shots that happen.

As I make my way towards the tent, my stomach not feeling right. I start to walk faster as I hear ruffles. I open the flaps-

No

No, it's not real.

I back away from the tent that holds my little sisters body. Soon a walker with long dark hair comes out with fresh blood on her fingers.

No

No

I feel dizzy, I tumble.

It's just a nightmare, I slap myself.

Wake up!

Why isn't it working? I slap myself again but it's no use.

I start laughing, this is obviously a prank, right? My laughing soon comes to crying as I begin to acknowledge reality.

I soon attract people and Glenn walks up and stabs the walker. There looking at me like I'm crazy, because, wasn't I just laughing.

I feel like I'm drunk but I haven't touched a bottle in 8 months. I am like super dizzy.

Am I ganna faint, crying? The world gets blurry and I only hear one more gun shot before I fall onto the hard ground. Well not necessarily because some one caught me but you get it.
________________________

I wake on a couch with Rick by my side. Why am I hear?

Reality soon, sooner then I was wanting, dawned on me and I start to cry. Silently because Rick has his head down. Why is he holding my hand?

I just got her back, why did i have to lose her, again? I jump up and run outside. Rick springs up and trys to run after me. I run into the trees.

The trees blur around me and I hear my name being called by Ricky but I don't really care anymore.

I just want to be left alone. I see a house and immediately go inside it. There's no walkers or any sign of human life so I chill on the couch, just thinking. I've been doing that a lot lately.
I wouldn't really call it over thinking. But Im usually thinking about what I'm going to think about next.

I'm still crying but it's like I can't feel any more. Numb, maybe. I'm just so mad. I get up and start to punch the hollow walls protecting the inner piece. Soon enough my knuckles start bleeding but I don't stop.

I think about my dad, my mom, my sister's death, that's enough to keep me going. I think about how Rick uses me untill he has Lori again. I think about all the people that's screwed me over. How I just let them.

Im not that little girl who didn't know better anymore. I'm different, better, safer, wiser. I know right from wrong and I know when to beat their fucking head in or not. Simple.

I just hate living sometimes. I look down at my 3 cuts. The have scabbed over, still visiable to the  untrained eye.

Maybe if I do it again I can feel again. But I already know the answer, no.

That's usually been the answer to most of my life, no.

I'm tierd of that word. It's super negative.

After I calm down an wrap my knuckles, I exit the tiny cute house.  Kind of looks like a tinker bell house. Cute. Miriah would have loved it.

As I'm looking at the house, a tree wants to be a bully and hurt me even more than I already am. I turn my head in time to knock my apparently GIANT nose on the trunk. The impact makes my head knock up.

I immediately put my hands to my nose to feel if it is broken. Thank God it's not. It is swollen though. All I can think of is, great, me and Rudolph are twins. I came back to the tent to be informed of Beth's depression. I know what that feels like. Like your useless. It is, after all, my fault my baby sister is now 6 feet under.