𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐑𝐘 , 𝘵𝘸𝘥 ¹

[ 04 ] 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥.

[ take my hand - iv ]

[ season 1, episode 3 ]
[ tell it to the frogs]

          As the day progressed and the suns relentless torment started to dwindle, dinner was in fast preparation. Bitterly, Zoe remained on the inside of Dale's RV reading a war-torn copy of Lord of The Flies, avoiding having to help.

She wasn't really paying attention to the book because she still hadn't managed to read past the first page. Her mind was too occupied, like it had given itself the job of driving her crazy.

She thought about Lori's words and her false "understanding". Zoe understood that people lost their families or just didn't know what had happened to them and that that's what most people were going through. That's what everyone was going through.

But Lori knew the truth of her situation. Lori was there that night. She held Zoe as they buried Phoebe and made sure Ryan drank and ate when he just sat around camp and wouldn't talk for the first few days after.

Zoe wished it had been herself that night. And as much as she loved her daughter, she knew Ryan needed Phoebe more.

But there were two sides to that coin, one where she would be at peace, maybe standing and waiting for Phoebe at the pearly gates. Knowing that Ryan would do everything in his power to keep her alive, who he would become to protect her. Knowing that would have been enough, eventually.

Or the other.

Where she lived a life without her, in hell. Living day by day reminded that the only way she would see her daughter again was death. Her anger festered. The simple frustration.

Maybe Lori had been right, and all the rage and anger that shook her bones and made them brittle, begging to break everything around her, made her unbearable to be around.

If she couldn't hurt the things around her, she would shatter from the inside-out.

Maybe that was why Ryan distanced himself from her. Why he was forgetting her. Because her words were thrashing and violent even if she wasn't. Even if it wasn't what she meant.

But people only believed what they saw, and what they saw was Zoe slowly become a heartless creature. She had earned the names they whispered behind her back. The dirty looks around camp were engraved in her mind. A circling memory, like a hawk stalking a field mouse. People didn't take well to her personality.