The End is Nigh

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"The hunger strike ends today," Michonne spoke up. I looked off towards the bars and sighed, realizing she was talking to Negan. I wish it was me, I haven't ate a thing today and my stomach was screaming at me for it.

"I'm not on strike," Negan responded.

"Than what is this?"

"This is me not in the mood to eat, but it's nice to know that you care." I instantly rolled my eye and resumed staring up at the ceiling. I bet nobody knew that the ceiling had six cracks, two cobwebs, and the spider the size of Alaska squished on it.

"We're keeping you alive, and the living eat. So eat, Negan. It's a nice day." Negan chuckled under his breath. "I'll be back in n hour. I want that gone."

"Is that all you got?"

"I got better things to do."

"You want me to eat? Well, I want you to talk to stay and talk to me. I mean, I'm proof that you're makin' a civilization, right? I mean, that's what your boyfriend says, so hard to be that if I'm dead from starvation."

"Thought you said you weren't on strike?"

"I'm not if you stay and talk to me." Michonne fell silent for a moment.

"You'll survive without me." I could hear Michonne's footsteps heading towards the door.

"I said talk to me!" Negan snapped. "Talk to me or I don't eat!"

"Talk to your neighbor."

"What fuckin' neighbor?"

"Hey, Michonne?" I called out. "I hate to butt in on this frivolous conversation y'all got goin' on over there, but if he ain't gonna eat that, can I? I haven't ate since yesterday."

"I'll bring you something in a minute, just sit tight, alright?"

"Okay, but can ixnay on the carrots, they still taste like ass to me." Michonne let out an amused sigh and exited the building, locking the door behind her.

"When did you get here?" Negan asked, but I didn't respond. "Michaela?" When he got no answer, Negan let out a frustrated sigh. "She said to talk to my neighbor, but it appears that my neighbor is a selective mute."

"Fuck you!"

"Oh-ho-ly shit, the mute speaks!" Negan chuckled. "How's my beautiful wife doin'? How's my daughter?"

"Didn't realize ya had a wife and daughter," I scoffed.

"Michaela, I have every right to see 'er!"

"The fuck ya do! She ain't yours, you prick!"

"WE HAD AN AGREEMENT!"

"SHIT CHANGES, NEGAN, OR HAVE YA FORGOTTEN THAT?" The room fell silent.

"Why are we fuckin' yellin' at each other?"

"You started it!"

"I just tried to have a simple conversation with you, and you bite my fuckin' head off. I just need socialization, Michaela. I don't care if you lie to my fuckin' face, just talk to me so I don't go fuckin' crazy." I let out a sigh and got up and sat down in the corner, the same spot where I sat when Negan was helping me through my contractions.

"Talk, but just know that I ain't happy." I heard Negan stand up and move his bed pan before taking a seat on the opposite side of the wall. He scooted his food tray closer to him and began to eat.

"How've you been?"

"Perfect. I've dyed my hair neon pink, I gained a hundred pounds, and I sprouted a penis, so that's new." Negan suddenly began to cough.

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