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❛ YOU PROMISED. ❜ 28. Separated SEASON 04 EPISODE 08 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔
I gasp, springing up from the moderately comfortable mattress underneath me. The air around me is chilly, making this hum, vibrating amongst my skin; causing many of these tiny goosebumps pop across my skin, as well. My fingers dig into the bed, clenching onto the sheets as I try to catch just a clear breath.
I blink at my surroundings; my head now pounding with confusion and thumping in irritation. I stand from the bed— too quick— causingthe pounding and thumping to grow harsher and louder. Leaning against the closest wall, my were feet dragging on the ground as I leave the room, my palms flat against the wall. Still, I was weak.
My lips were pressed into a thin line as I step into the empty space of the cellblock. An uncomfortable feeling shivers through my bones while continuing to move; legs wobbling, sweat building from my pores.
"You're too weak." The voice makes me flinch in surprise; their hand touching the lower part of my back. "You should rest."
"I don't feel that sick anymore and I just want my music. I'll come back." I mutter weakly, teeth grinding together in pain as I continue to push myself.
"Get back to bed, Brat." Daryl grumbles.
"I'll come back." I repeat, brushing pass him with a feeble shuffle.
The halls are just as empty as the block is; the quarantine made this possible. Sounds of my shoes tapping against the ground is the only thing in the entire hall that makes a noise— it's eerie. My pace is controlled, my hands reddened, my breathing hallow.
Cellblock C, is written in white letters on the greying wall right beside the door that is slightly ajar, as if inviting me inside on its own. It's welcoming. Entering, a smile curves upon my lips at the sight; although it's empty, the cells are still as neat as we made them, giving me a great memory of what it was like days before this sickness made its appearance. It's relaxing to stand in the place I call home.
As soon as I begin packing my things, a huge boom rocked the entire building and the land it was settled on. Rubble falling from the ceiling while the lights flickered.
I blink in total surprise, stunned; my lips parting as I tuck my gun and hatchet into my utility belt, throwing my bag over my shoulders afterwards. I scramble to place my headphones around my neck while I tuck the cassette tape into my pocket— as much as I could.
