My Life is Over - TWD Fanfic

regrets & heirlooms

Word Count : 2969

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Leighton was not going to cry. She couldn't. She was strong. You had to be strong to survive. She.. She couldn't cry, not now. Not when there was so much to do. But there was no denying the tears that traced their way down her dusty cheeks, and sobs that ripped out of her throat with an alarming ferocity. Leighton didn't want to cry, because crying means she would have to mourn, and mourning means she would have to stop, and stopping would mean thinking. Much, much, too much thinking. Levi wasn't ready for that much thinking, not yet. And if there was one thing Leighton didn't need, as snot dribbled out of her nose and her ears rang? It was most certainly thinking.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Leighton awoke to screams. Pure, unfiltered terror drifted through the corridors of the West Georgia Correctional Facility, and I sat up, straight as a ramrod, whipping my head back and forth to discern my surroundings. Maggie and Glenn were gone, and sunlight streamed through the doorway, as I exited the cell, tripping over something as my bare feet pattered against the cement floor, as the screams cut off, one by one with gunshots, and transformed into sobbing and screams of mourning. No, not in D.. Please, Patrick was so sick there was no way he would have been able to defend himself. Please tell me he's okay. I started sprinting, barefoot and wearing wrinkled, baggy clothing from the night before-definitely a sight to all who spotted me. I was panting by the time I arrived, having taken a few pumps of my inhaler as I entered D. I ran straight into Rick's back, and he caught me as I bounced back, whirling and grabbing my arms, face transforming into a despaired pity.

"Rick -wh- where's my brother? Patrick? He was sick last night, is he okay? What happened?"

I was begging for an answer, begging for him to tell me he was okay, but he turned, eyes connecting with Daryl's, who was holding his crossbow and was still ready to fight. I cringed, my hands tightening around my inhaler, the sharp edges of the plastic the only thing keeping me grounded.

"You should.. You should come with me. You shouldn't be in here."

He stumbled over his words, clearly searching for something to say, and I ripped out of his arms, sprinting past Daryl as I faced the destruction of Cellblock D. I was suddenly grabbed, arms wrapping around me and pinning me to a sweaty chest, and I screamed at what was right in front of me, splayed across the floor, inhaler clattering to the floor as my hands flew up to cover my mouth. I'd always thought the women who did that in old movies, the ones on black and white film, were dramatic, or didn't know how to properly show the horrified emotion, and used her hands to cover her trembling lips. But for me, my hand was the only thing muffling my screams and making me hold in my vomit at the sickening scene before me. My hand was the only thing keeping me from inhaling the iron scent of blood around me. Without the inhaler in my hand, my fingers pressed to my screaming lips was the only thing holding me together. It looked like a horror movie.

Patrick's glasses were skewered across his face, trails of blood having dripped down from his eyes, nose, and ears. My earsplitting scream had caught the attention of Maggie, who had run in desperately looking for her family, and she lunged forward, enveloping me in her arms and removing me from Daryl's grasp. What the worst thing about Patrick was all the fresh blood that I knew couldn't possibly be his that stained his chin and lips. His face was caked in the thick red liquid, and I let out sobs, screaming at Maggie to help him, begging for him to wake up, and as the Woodbury residents mourned their own, Rick and Daryl watched me as Maggie held my writhing body as I screamed his name.. My brother's name. Patrick. Just begging for him to open his eyes, that it was a joke. It never happened, and to that day.. Leighton Rosalie Moore would never again be the same.