The Hunter's Prey

Chapter 21

Death it's a funny thing isn't it. One moment you'll be begging for it, the next you'll be begging for one more year. One more week. One more day. One more minute. Yet life doesn't work that way, at least not all the time.

The first thing that came back to me was thoughts. Where am I? It was dark and I couldn't feel my body. I couldn't feel anything, besides a great emotional pain. I had pushed everyone away and now I wanted nothing more than to have them back at my side. To have my best friends back. To have my family back. But I was dead, wasn't I?

Darkness, that's how people described death before. Some said they saw things like God or lost loved ones, but I saw nothing. Was this what it was like to be a walker? To just be in darkness, while your body ate your family.

No, surely they would've stopped me from becoming a walker, right? They didn't hate me enough just to let me turn and leave me. No, I'm dead. I can't be a walker. I'm dead. I'd never see anyone ever again. I was gone and there was no coming back for me.

Or for Negan he was gone now. A feeling grew inside me. A strange feeling. I hated him with such a strong passion, but that was because he hated me. Yet he tried to save me. He didn't hate me. Why? I made it my personal mission to kill him and to kill him slowly. He still cared in his own twisted way. I couldn't find it in me to hate him anymore. He was a lost man who needed help. All my childhood memories made since now.

The time he pushed my mom down the stairs and killed Angel. Was an accident. She fell by accident and, in her grief, she pinned it on him. When he yelled at us. He was just worried or stressed. He held a job that made him unhappy, just so he could take care of us. And what did we do in return? My mom didn't notice and made it worse and I made him out to be some sort of monster. When he lost his job, it was my fault. I started that fight with that girl at school. He stepped in and that girl cried wolf and got him fired. It was my fault. I was the troublemaker. I made his life hard. No wonder he lost his cool with me. I was putting him through a ton of stress.

Once the world ended everything he had bottled up, became a mask for him to wear. He lost who he was in the process.

It was always my fault from the beginning. At least it felt that way. But did I have any way of knowing this was going to happen? I didn't. I couldn't just blame myself for everything. That's what caused me to lose my family. I can't do that anymore. It'll cause more problems. It's not like it mattered anymore. I was dead. I couldn't fix anything.

Then something happened. Something that I thought was impossible now. I heard something. I heard someone speaking. I couldn't understand them, but I could hear them. Maybe I wasn't really dead. Can dead people hear things? I wasn't dead, but there was something wrong with me. I still couldn't feel my body. I still couldn't see anything.

Maybe I was just dead and I was hearing things. Maybe none of this was really. Yet the voice seemed familiar. If I could only just hear what they were saying. There were different voices now. 2 maybe 3. I couldn't really tell. I still couldn't hear them well, but the words were starting to get clearer. I could pick up on a few words every now and then.

Most of the time there was only one voice. It was the same one over and over. I couldn't tell what they were saying, but I picked up on a few of their words. Like, please and need. They said those the most. Along with another word I could never pick up on.

I wanted to know what they were saying. Whatever it was, it was important. There they were again. This time they were joined by one of the other voices. What were they saying? I needed to know. What cruel game was Death playing on me? I was dead and yet I could still hear people. I wanted to know what they were saying.