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❛ YOU PROMISED. ❜ 35. Jagged Knife ❛ SEASON 05 EPISODE 10 ❜ ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔
I hate them; I hate funerals; I loathe that I have to watch, someone I love, be thrown six feet under. I hate watching as the guilt be tossed around, bouncing between all of us, even if it wasn't our fault. I avoid them because my mental capacity could take no more.
In, only, one week we buried two people, only one week and two people are dead. I don't think we could get anymore unlucky or sad or short of people. But we are not a lucky kind of people; we aren't the sort of people who end of having a good week in the apocalypse.
It's dark days, no food, no water, no car, and no strength. We are starving with no idea on how much longer we can survive like this. Out walking underneath the sun, which makes us even more thirsty; all of our feet dragging, our heads hanging low, and our stomachs screaming with hunger.
This was possibly our lowest.
Hours of walking and somehow we've got an entire swarm of walkers trailing behind us, in hopes of catching up. I ignored it, at first, but as more kept piling on and piling on, it couldn't be ignored anymore. Nearly an hour later we were resting, two halfs of our group stand and wait at each end of the bridge, which became the best place to get rid of the walkers.
Tossing the walkers over the bridge is the goal, just doing as much maintenance and cleaning up as they can. But the plan was ruined by Sasha; she approached the dead with the intention to kill— and she did. It wasn't mistake, not a slip-up, it's what she wanted to do, which is understandable but her lack of emotional control almost got a couple people hurt, or worse.
I exhale with exhaustion, wiping my hand against the sweat beading on my forehead while I hold, the leash in my hand, tighter. Because of the way I decided to walk, the sides and front of my shoes begin to scuff, causing them to ruin quicker, but dragging my feet across the ground is the only way I can walk without feeling so tired.
"I got it." Kareem murmurs, gently taking the leash out of my hands. "I said I got it." He says again, this time his voice is much more hoarse and louder; making me press my lips together.
"What happened?" I ask in a whisper, his eyes harden and he clenches his jaw; two signs that tell me he didn't want to talk to me about it, but I push. "Something other than Tyreese happened in that town, what happened?"
"Since we're talking about shit happening, what's happening between you and Carl?"
"Anyways, is Kassala okay now? It really doesn't matter now but—"
