CURSING MY NAME, the walking dead

midnight sea

almost two years earlier...

My father was out getting more medicine for my mother. She has cancer and the fridge that held her medicine died, ruining what was inside. I'm not sure when he's going to get back. I hope it's soon.

I'm bringing back some canned food I found. I think that would lift my mom's spirits.
She didn't want me to go out by myself but I did anyway.

I walk through the house towards her room, pulling one of the cans out of my backpack. Her door is closed so I push it open and walk in.

"Mom! I found some food—" The can falls from my hand and rolls away from me as tears well up in my eyes and my throat constricts.

She's dead.
My mother is dead.

She had cancer but from what I see in front of me, it didn't kill her. She killed herself.

There's movement and I think maybe I'm just losing my mind and she's perfectly fine but she groans like one of those things. She is one of those things.

I step back and slam the door shut, putting a barrier between me and what is inside that room. Something inside me snaps. Breaks. I have to go. I have to get out of here. I have to go. I repeat over and over and as if I forget about everything going on and become some type of emotionless robot, I walk to my room, pack some things in a duffel bag, and leave. I hop in my car and drive.

It's a few hours later when the car splutters to a stop. I'm in some sort of haze. shock maybe. I don't know where I am. I pull a knife out of my backpack and get out of the car, leaving the door open, and walk to the closest house. The front door is slightly ajar and it creaks when I push it open wider enough to step inside, holding my knife defensively.

There's a noise from further in the house and one of those things comes out through the doorway of another room. What used to be a man is now a monster. I suck in a breath of air and meet him in the middle and stab him in the head. He drops to the ground as I pull the knife back out.

My mother is back at home like that.
And I left her.
I. Left. Her.

I left Dad. Oh god, what have I done?
He's going to come back to that house and find me gone and her like that.

Tears fill my eyes and I slide down against the nearest wall, my breaths coming out quick and shallow. I left them. I left him. The car is out of gas so I can't go back to that even if I wanted to. He'll be better off without me. If he's still even alive right now. I steady out my breathing.

I hear footsteps outside getting closer but no groaning or growling. I rise up and clutch my knife as two people approach the open front door laughing together. a man and a boy. father and son, I assume.

"Dad—" The boy starts but is cut off.

"Quiet, Carl," The man says. His eyebrows lift in concern, having noticed the tears on my face. "We're not gonna hurt you. Are you alright? Is it just you here?" He glances at the dead monster on the floor.

"Yes, it's just me." I nod, quickly wiping under my eyes.

"I'm Rick. This is Carl."

"I'm Sarah."

"Did you know that walker before he turned?" Rick motions to the guy on the floor.

"Walker?"

"It's what we call 'em. Walkers. They ain't living but they walk around like it."

Walkers. That's gonna stick.

"Dad, we have to invite her back." Carl starts, insisting to Rick who nods and steps closer.

"We've got a group. Men, Women, Another girl—around your age I'm guessing. Did you want to come back with us?"

I hesitate. Can I trust them? And more people I'll get attached to and might eventually lose? I don't know if I'm ready for that, if I can handle it again.

"It's safer than being out here alone." Rick persists and I give in.

I sheathe my knife and nod, "Alright. I'll join your group."