Junebug • TWD

17. Baby.

I hate my dad. I've decided so just now. I'm not going to deal with it anymore. He doesn't love me, so I don't love him back. He can't just keep going back and forth whenever he feels like it. All it does is make my heart hurt, and I can't keep going on like this. I can't keep trying to get him to like me because it's too tiring.

There are other people who like me, anyway. Dale likes me. Hershel does, too. And Beth and Maggie. Probably Glenn, too. I've got plenty of people who like me. I don't need to waste no more time on my dad. I've tried so hard for so long and all it ever ends in is more hurt. So I've had it. I'm all done.

Right now, I'm lying on my side in a bed in the farmhouse. My dad's beside me, but I've got my back to him because I don't wanna pay him no mind. My head is hurting really, really bad, even though I took the painkillers. Maggie said the food would help, too, but it ain't doing any good so far. Maybe because I didn't eat enough of it. I ate all I could, though.

"June," Dad says, brushing my hair behind my ear.

I shrug his hand away. "Stop it, please," I say. I'm trying to be rude so that he gets the message, but I can't seem to stop using my manners. The words come outta my mouth without me even thinking about it.

"Ya gotta lay on your other side, baby. You're hurtin' your head," Dad says after a big, long sigh. I wish he'd stop calling me baby. It's confusing and it makes me angry.

"I don't care," I mumble, turning my head to hide my face in my pillow. I'm lying on my left side, and the left side of my head is the side with the big, huge red spot that hurts to touch.

Dad said it was Andrea because she thought he was a walker, so she was aiming for him, but she missed and hit me instead. I told him to stop being mad at her because it was only an accident. I don't want Andrea to feel bad. It's not her fault. It wouldn't have happened if I would have just listened.

"Yeah, well, I care. So quit bein' stubborn and turn over," Dad says. He's trying not to get annoyed with me because he feels bad that my head got hurt, but I'm trying to annoy him. Because, if he's annoyed, maybe he'll leave me alone and I won't have to deal with his mixed messages no more. I don't understand him. I really don't. "Listen, June, I know you're mad at me, but you ain't doin' nothin' but hurtin' yourself right now," Dad says.

And I'm braver than I've ever been because I really, actually scoff at him, and I turn over to look at him. "Why? 'Cause you're gonna hit me once my head gets better?" I ask in a monotone voice. I'm brave. I'm so, so brave.

Dad- what? He frowns. He sighs. He doesn't yell. He doesn't get angry. "No one's gonna hit you no more," Dad tells me, avoiding my eyes. He's just a liar. He looks at my eyes, so I look away from his. He taps my chin to try and get me to look at him, but I knock his hand away. "It ain't right, June, and I'm sorry."

The words out of my dad's mouth sound so fake that I think I might be dreaming. I bite down on my bottom lip, just to make sure, and, yep, it hurts really bad. I'm not dreaming.

He's just a liar. That's what he is.

I turn over in bed again. I wish he'd go away, but he hurt his stupid knee, so he can't. I wish I could go away, but Dad's here watching me, so I can't. My head hurts bad. So bad I feel like crying. But I can't. I can't because I have to be tough.

"June," Dad says again, reaching out to me. When he touches my arm, I jerk my elbow back, knocking his hand away. "Baby, I'm only tryin' to help you," he says. Liar, liar, liar.

"I'm fine. Been fine on my own since they took me away. You ain't like me ever since then. So leave me alone," I say, angry and sad.

"I don't know what to do," Dad mutters, followed by a sigh.