Junebug • TWD

43. The Governor.

Momma left out the door hours ago, I think. I wish I knew what she was doing. I wish I was with her. I can't sleep, knowing I'm here all alone. Knowing she could be somewhere else. With walkers or with the Governor.

I haven't seen the Governor yet, but I'm nervous for when I do see him. I'll probably have to meet him tomorrow. That's how Momma made it seem. Because Merle will want me to meet him, apparently. Probably because Merle wants to find my dad and the Governor's helping him. But my momma knows better. She knows it ain't at all safe to trust that man, and Momma's real good at knowing who to trust, so I believe her.

For now, I'm still just lying in bed. Part of me wishes I could sleep, but the other part is glad that my body knows better than to take that risk when I'm all alone. Dad would be proud of me for being smart like this. I wish he was here real bad. I miss him more than I thought. And 'cause Momma's been gone for so long now, I'm starting to miss her again, too. Gosh, I'm clingy. Need to grow up or somethin'.

I'm real sick of just lying here. I think it'd be better if I went and found Mom, but that's dangerous and I'm supposed to be safe. If she wanted me out there with her, she wouldn't have lied about it and snuck out without telling me nothing.

This bed ain't doing me any good, though, so I climb out of it. The room's pretty nice and it's got this big window with one of those fancy window seats that princesses like to sit on when they sing songs at the moon and stars. I ain't no singer- not at all- but I sit on that window seat, anyway.

Out the window, I can see that the streets that I walked along with Merle earlier today are now lit up by little torches, which is kind of cool. Reminds me of Lilo and Stitch, a little bit. 'Cause in Lilo and Stitch, that guy has those fire sticks and does cool tricks with them. I like that guy. Can't remember his name, though. Lilo's my favorite, though. She's a little bit like me sometimes.

Anyway, there's not that many people out tonight. Maybe that's a rule. I don't know none of the rules here yet. I don't know if I ever will, either, because I don't plan on staying. Momma said we should get out of here, so she can slap Dad across the face. I don't want her to do that, but I know she probably will. She's just tough like that.

The stars look really pretty. So does the moon. I try to think about how Dad and everyone else back at the prison is looking at the same stars and moon as me, and that we're not that far away, like in An American Tail, when those mice sing that song. I'm not gonna sing it, though, 'cause, like I said, I ain't no singer.

I let out a huff, leaning my head against the cold window. It's really boring without Momma here.

I wonder where Maggie and Glenn are right now. I hope they're okay. It makes my stomach hurt to think that they could be hurt. Or worse. I don't know how cruel the Governor and his people can get.

Then, I hear the gunshots.

Letting out a shriek, I press my hands over my ears. My first instinct is to look further out the window to see where the gunshots are coming from, but then I realize that the longer I'm pressing my cheek against the glass, the longer I'm in the way of getting shot. I ain't looking to have another gross, ugly scar across the side of my head. So I scramble off the window seat, running out of the room.

As soon as I step foot in the living room, the front door swings open. At first, I scream, but then I see it's only Momma. She's got this wide-eyed, panicked look that makes me even more scared.

"What's goin' on?" I ask, my eyebrows pinched together.

"I think your people are here," Momma says. She rushes into the bedroom and starts digging through drawers, throwing things into a little bag. First a few clothes, then a picture, and then guns and bullets. "We're gonna wait for them to leave. For all this to settle down some. The Governor will be preoccupied with his people, tryin' to calm 'em down. We'll sneak out the back."