After Death

Chapter 2 (Mourning is the worst kind of medicine)

Chapter 2: Mourning is the worst kind of medicine

Ethan Warren

Estimated, January 2025

About 32 months after outbreak

California, The Circus

Season 4

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I wanted to know what happened, how he got the gun, why he pulled the trigger. I felt like it was my fault because it was, he was trapped in there because of me and now I was sharing the punishment. I want to talk to him, just one more time to tell him I'm sorry but I don't think he could forgive me anyways.

It was like the dead heard the bullet and the sounds of the sobbing. They crowded the gate more than usual. Normally it wouldn't be much of a problem but our walls still weren't reinforced from the fires and the shooting and there were too many, we feared it would fall. We tried to kill them off but we weren't in the right mindset for that, we were weakened and there was no sign of us getting stronger any time soon.

Leah helped me try to keep the dead under control but I could tell she wasn't in the right place either. We had all lost a very good friend and everyone was to blame for we were all the ones who neglected the man.

We tried desperately not to let the dead inside the walls. They were old and it was obvious it wasn't going to be easy to save them. We should have let them fall, we'd have an excuse to find somewhere else if we did. We could build a new community, we could start over. I think it's what everyone needed, there were too many bad memories here.

I wasn't going to make us more yet, we weren't ready mentally for that. Too much was changing I couldn't go and make it worse. I knew Thomas would never leave, Emilio wouldn't either but soon he would realize that it was for the best.

Airianna seemed to be the most effected by Aiden's suicide, not as much as Rudi but close. She stayed in the cells while Rudi locked himself and Juna in his bedroom. She slept on Aiden's bed and refused to eat the food I offered her. I was worried about her but I didn't know what to do, I didn't know who could help her.

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Leah Souixer

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Dallen wouldn't go near me, he did whatever he could to stay away from anyone and everyone. He didn't sleep, he didn't eat, he just paced around the room, fiddling with Aiden's knife.

I never knew Aiden that well but it doesn't mean I didn't care about him, he was my friend and his ending was tragic. At the end of the day though, it was his choice and to him it seemed better than living in a cold prison. Maybe he even had the right idea, to go out without pain, it wasn't cowardly it was smart. But I wasn't about to follow in his footsteps, I wasn't that far gone yet, I like to think that I still had something worth living for.

Dallen stayed at his grave and occasionally Airianna was there with him. They didn't talk but to both of them it meant more than I could ever know. I wished I knew him better, his death made me realize how easy it was to leave but how difficult it is to stay. Death is simple as long as it's quick. I didn't want to die but maybe that would change if I had been in the same position. Any of us could have, we've all committed crimes it's just Aiden who payed the price.

This would never end, we would never be able to live in peace no matter how hard we tried. Maybe Aiden saw that and it's what got him killed. We were just stupid kids, obviously we deserved nothing less than a shitty broken life.

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Rudolph Alinsky

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Did it hurt? More than you'll ever know. I was used to losing people, had to get used to it after Edin and Ash but this was different. It didn't mean more, death is death, it was just worse.

I still think he's here but he's not, he's dead. I still hear his voice but it's faint. I still have hope that he'll come back but I know he won't. I loved him I was just too scared to admit it and when I was finally ready too, we buried him in the backyard. It was always him, not Ashton. I'm probably the only one who still cries over it but I can't move on, I can't do that to him, I deserve to still mourn. Airianna has his journal, I let her keep it because I knew I'd never be able to open it. I think she's read it, it took her a while to. I can only imagine the images that flashed through her mind as she did. I will never open it, it would hurt too much and then we'd be right back where we started. I like to think I've made progress in trying to move on, I know I haven't but I can pretend, can't I? I don't let people see that it still bothers me, there's always important things to worry about and worrying about a dead man wasn't one of them. A piece of me died with him and it didn't come back to life like everything else in this world.