Walkers//c.g✔️

Chapter Thirty-Nine

The arrow that hit Tara wasn't infected with walker blood, that was a huge relief.

I sat next to Michonne as she read Carl's letter addressed to her, she let out a sob and sniffled, wiping her nose. I looked down at my hands. Footsteps scuffed harshly against the wooden floorboards. She let out a shaky sigh, putting the letter down, burying her face in her hands. I looked up to see Rick standing in the archway.

Michonne picked her head up, Rick walked over to her, brushing her hair out of her face with his hand. The palm of his hand rested on her face. "Do-Do you wanna read it?" Michonne asked, holding the letter up to Rick. Rick's hand trailed down to her hand, holding it for a minute, shaking his head as he walked over to their shared closet, grabbing a jacket. "You're going out there?" Michonne asked. "We need food, I'm gonna find some." He said, softly.

"What did he write you?" Michonne asked, I felt uncomfortable being here in this conversation. Rick shook his head, looking at the wooden floor as he began to tear up. His nose turning red. "I don't know. I can't-"

"Wait." Michonne said, cutting Rick off. "I can't." He said hoarsely. "You have too." She persisted. I felt myself picking myself up from off the bed. I slowly walked out of the room, listening to their conversation grow intensely, changing into an argument.

I walked into my tiny room, shutting the door behind me, my eyes wandered to the dresser, a pair of rusty scissors sat on top of it. I looked into the mirror that laid on the wall above the dresser, then back down to the scissors. My hand brushed over the scissors. I picked them up, inching it towards my hair. I picked up a piece in the front, the scissors pressed down creating a sound. The strand of hair fell to the floor. I gulped. I grabbed another strand, cutting it, watching as it fell to the floor. I sniffled, looking in the mirror, cutting more and more strands, watching them fall onto the floor. Tears blurred my vision, I blinked them away. I put the scissors down, looking back in the mirror. I let out a shaky sigh, wiping the tears that fell down my cheek, looking in the mirror. My once extremely long, dirty blonde hair, was short. I gulped. My eyes darting over to the book bag. I nodded my head, stepping back from the dresser. Tonight was the night. I felt my hand twitch a tiny bit.

I felt extremely empty inside. My heart once full heart, felt bare. Everything I used to feel, I can't feel. I can't even bring myself to fake smile.

Negan needed to know the truth. Not some half assed statement that a blood thirsty Rick came up with. I needed to know the truth. I needed to uphold what I promised to Carl. I needed to make this future for him and for our child. I wanted to feel like he was still here with us. I just couldn't, I knew better than that. I couldn't do that for the sake of my own sanity.

I placed a tiny kiss on the ring that was setting on the necklace chain. I let the ring drop, the necklace hanging around my neck, the ring hit against my chest.

The floorboards outside of my room creaked, people walking back and forth. A tiny knock danced across my door. I kicked the book bag underneath the bed a tiny bit more. Walking towards the door, my boots creating noise against the creaking floorboards. I opened the wooden door, it creaked open.

Daryl. "Hey, kid, nice haircut." He said, his voice monotoned. "Hey," I whispered back. "I haven't gotten to talk to ya yet, I wanted to see how you were holdin' up and adjusting and shit."

My heart pinged, it wanted to scream that I wasn't okay, but that's not the truth, I didn't know what I was feeling. "I don't know."

He nodded, pulling me into a hug. The tears threatening to plunge out of my eyes. I wrapped my arms around him, a sob escaped my lips. "Hey kid, it's alright."

"It'll never be alright." My voice cracked and I cried into his chest.