Who We Are | TWD

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We drive. I don't know for how long or how far. We just move, blindly stumbling along the path that feels the most inevitable to us. I watch for only a little bit as the tall buildings of Atlanta disappear, almost like they hadn't even existed to begin with.

Once we start driving, we don't stop for a long time. We cruise down an interstate before turning down a hidden highway closer to the countryside. Gas is out only contentious thought, but even that seems less significant than our need to flee.

No matter how much more I've slept lately, a small, yet stressful, event seems to drain whatever energy I thought I had gained. I can't fall asleep now. Every time I close my eyes, I just see Beth, her limp arm dangling towards the ground.

We park the truck in an empty field. The van carrying the others stops right behind us. Once I know I have to move to actually get up from my seat, my bones feel as heavy and concrete as stone. It takes great strength for me to sit up the small way I have to before following Carl out of the cab.

The dried grass is up to my knees and tickles the skin beneath my pants. I reach a hand out and touch a willow piece of straw, brushing my fingertips against it. Nothing so smooth and fragile seems to survive here.

Two tasks are set out to be completed. Half of the group is directed to set up camp while a few others plan the funeral service for Beth, which will need to be executed as soon as possible. Gabriel was more than willing to lead a few prayers. He got right to work in planning what he'd do while Rick discovered a nice place under a weeping willow tree to plot a grave.

To plot Beth's grave.

It felt like an insurmountable sentence for my mind to tackle, but there was no choice other than to come to terms with it. This world doesn't put things on pause for you to grieve.

I begin the easy task of gathering sticks for a fire. It was just days ago that I was doing this with Michonne, Carl, and Rick without any thoughts about the gloom and doom to follow. I thought what had just recently happened to us was bad enough. I had no idea what was to come. Although, both physically and mentally, I hadn't been in a great place, I would do just about anything to be back there because I know it would top whatever I'm doing now.

Mindlessly stumbling, I think. I'm just mindlessly stumbling.

I find a cluster of sticks under a tree and gather them into a bundle in my arms. I carefully examine each one to make sure they are dry before adding them to my stack and carrying them off to be added to the fire being built closer to the vehicles. Rosita is leading this effort. She gives me a sad smile before accepting my offerings and uses them to build up her fire.

We have to keep moving. I know that. I even thought that to myself earlier. Now that plans still haven't been officially made, I'm having a more difficult time processing and coming to terms with such a thing. None of it feels right or even okay in the slightest.

☾

By early evening, a grave has been dug for Beth. Maggie insisted on helping bury her before we all gathered around the weeping willow and bowed our heads in prayer. Gabriel spoke as though he had known Beth well. It made me hate that he didn't. Maybe not as much that he didn't, but that he couldn't. Anybody that didn't know her already wouldn't be able to know her now.

It's as if she hadn't even existed to begin with.

I spend the evening try to envision a world without Beth. She's gone now, but she must've left some sort of imprint - an impression on our minds. Her life can't have just meant nothing.

I take the bouquet of wildflowers I had gathered in my hands and set them on the fresh mound of dirt below me. I hope they don't blow away with the straggles of brisk wind. I need them to stay there and give her strength once we leave her. I need her to know that I cared.

Once the small service is finished and everyone is mulling about to depart from the gravesite, Maggie won't leave Beth's side. She sits nearby the mound of overturned dirt encapsulating her sister until dark, when Rick forces her to come join us at our campsite. She reluctantly obeys.

We graze over what's left of our canned food supply for dinner. I don't eat much. I'm not very hungry, anyways, and the thought of food is enough to make my stomach turn and mind spiral. At the end of the night, I lay down in the back of the van the others followed us here in, and fall into a deep sleep until morning.

When I awake, the smell of thick smoke from the dying campfire fills the air. I move through the motions of eating a small breakfast if whatever is leftover and sip from a plastic bottle of water. I feel like there's no motivation to do anything when there's nothing left to motivate me.

Rick has us pack up no more than an hour later and we all load into a few different sets of cars. I feel numb as we do so. Nothing feels real. I take a seat in one of the cars that Rick is driving, making sure it's the window seat. Carl, of course, has to join me with Judith. I ignore him, leaning my head against the window and rubbing the strap of my backpack in between my fingers as we take off.

I watch the trees blow by while we drive down the abandoned highway. Every once in a while, a walker will emerge from the forest and come stumbling onto the pavement beside the car. We move too quickly for it to cause any sort of problem for us.

The car is stone silent. I'm used to Rick insisting on playing some of his terrible music every time I'm in a car with him. He doesn't this time. I almost wish he would because it would give me some sort of familiar feeling in this distant dream.

We arrive to our destination after about two hours without stopping. I don't know what kind of destination it truly is. It's just the side of the road. Everyone gets out of their cars, immediately setting up camp. I don't.

As Carl moves to leave, he pauses, looking at me without speaking, my head pressed to the glass window. "Are you okay?" he asks. I'm so used to the words that they hardly phase me.

I pick up my head slowly, turning it to face him. "Yes." His eyes are unwavering as he waits expectantly for me to continue. I do. "The other day, I was scared because of Gareth's group in the church. Then, I was disgusted because of what we had to do. I knew what kind of people they were, but it still felt wrong. Yesterday, I was sad because Beth was killed. Now, I feel nothing. I don't feel pain, anger, or sadness. I just feel . . . numb. I feel numb because I know that those things that affected me so much aren't ever gonna stop happening. I guess it's just time that I get used to them."

Carl remains speechless as I open the door and get out of the car. I swipe a stray, strand of hair behind my ear, not looking back.

There's no time to look back anymore.