Junebug • TWD

9. Crybaby.

I woke up only a few minutes ago. It's real weird, laying with my dad, but it made me sleep really really well. I didn't have any nightmares last night and I don't even think I woke up at all. He's got his arm 'round my shoulders and I'm leaning my head on his chest. I feel kinda like a baby. Dad's still asleep, though. He always slept extra late in the mornings after he stayed out late at the bar, so I bet he's gonna sleep in late again.

Honestly, I'm not quite sure how I'm supposed to get up without waking him up. I like lying here. It's real calming. But I kinda gotta pee and I'm getting really hungry. I don't know what they got to eat here, but I'm hoping it's something good.

Maybe if I go real slow and careful, I'll be able to climb outta bed without waking him. So, hesitantly, I start to sit up a little. Just as I'm moving my arms to lift myself up, I accidentally knock my elbow into my dad's side. I freeze as my dad's eyes start fluttering open.

Dad glances over at me, and then he furrows his eyebrows. He retracts his arm and turns on his side, so his back is facing me.

"Good mornin', Daddy," I whisper, hoping I didn't make him mad. He was being real nice last night. I hope he stays like that.

"See if Merle had any painkillers in his stash," Dad grumbles, his voice muffled by the pillow.

"Ok," I say. I go to the spot by the couch where Dad dumped all of our bags. It's still kind of dark in here, so I can't see any of the labels in the plastic bag that Merle kept his medicines in. So I flip on the light switch and start digging through the bag.

"Jesus. Turn the fuckin' light off, Juniper," Dad says, obviously annoyed by me.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," I say, quickly flipping the light back off. I didn't know that'd make him mad. I start digging through the bag again, but I can't really read any of the labels. I honestly don't even know which ones would be painkillers. "What's it s'posed to say?" I ask.

"Just go get breakfast. I'll do it myself," Dad says, sitting up and pushing his fingers into his eyes.

"I can do it, Dad. I'm sorry," I insist, rushing to try and find some painkillers. I just want to make him feel better, so he can be happy again. I want him to stay like how he was last night. I don't want him to be like this.

"Go, Juniper. My head's fuckin' poundin' and I don't need you in here makin' all this noise. Go now. 'Less you wanna start your mornin' off bad," Dad warns me.

"I'm sorry," I say once more before standing back up hurrying out of the room. I feel a lump in my throat, but I swallow it back, because I don't got nothing to be crying about right now. Dad doesn't need to deal with that. He's got a headache. I gotta be good. And crying ain't good.

When I get to the cafeteria, I see that only a few other people are already up. Dale, Andrea, Lori, Rick, and Carl are all sitting at the table eating their breakfasts, but Glenn's sitting there moping and groaning. And T-Dog's cooking something at the counter. Jacqui's coming in behind me. So are Sophia and Carol.

"Eggs. Powdered, but I do 'em good," T-Dog says, holding his pan out to Jacqui. I don't know what powdered eggs are, but I can tell that he scrambled 'em, and I only like scrambled eggs sometimes. I can't even think of a single thing I wanna eat right now, so I just pour myself a cup of juice and sit down at the table with everyone. "Protein helps the hangover," T-Dog says as he scoops some of the eggs onto Glenn's plate.

I think that's what my dad's got. A hangover. That's what happens when you drink too much alcohol. You get a real bad headache and you throw up sometimes.

"Where'd all this come from?" Rick asks, shaking a bottle of Tylenol. I bet that's what my dad wanted me to find for him. I wish I would've found it. Then maybe he wouldn't be mad.