Things To Do | the walking dead

vi. Left behind

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I didn't know a lot about the people here in the Quarry. I could barely remember their names and I hadn't even talked to most of them. But now I wish I did. Well, I'm not interested in getting to know them, but something I fear more than death is dying without getting to say everything I wanna say. The ones who passed away probably had so much on their minds, both about the past and the present, but they probably didn't have the chance to say it. I think the general feeling of not knowing is what scared me. I think everything overwhelms me. Everyone used to point out that I either feel too little or too much, no in between. Mom said that that's a good thing because not many people get to feel emotions on that high level, but I don't think it is. Sometimes the feeling of feeling too much makes me feel like I'm drowning. I can't swim, so if I fell into the water and there was no one or nothing around me to help, it would kill me. Same with my emotions, just they won't kill me. But sometimes when I feel too much, I sadly feel my hands wanting to rip my hair or skin off.

I know it's weird. And I don't know what's wrong with me.

I never went to a funeral before because I get too overwhelmed. Mom and Dad knew that, so they never never made me go. However, Dean is making me stand here and watch them bury the dead ones. I know it's the right thing to do, but I keep shifting on my feet and finding something to tug on because my body feels heavy. Electric. The funeral felt like it was a hundred hours long, but finally, after the long wait, we all headed back to the camp.

The feeling still hadn't left me and I decided to go to the tent to try and calm down. I entered and saw Dean standing there with his face in his hands. "You okay, De-"

"Dad! For a hundred goddamn times; it's Dad!" I felt my heart stop for a good moment when he suddenly yelled. I didn't wanna upset him. I don't want him to be mad. "Is it really that hard to put that in that stupid, small, ugly brain of yours?!"

"I'm sorry, Dad," My fear of him really is stronger than the urge to put him in his place.

"Of course you are," He rubbed his face. "I saw what you did last night. Runnin' into some China man's arms instead of my own! I protect you, I feed you, I take care of you and you go to comfort for somebody else like a fuckin' pussy!"

"You were busy with Andrea and-" He reached over and took my arm, pushing me onto the floor. I gasped in surprise and landed on the ground with an 'off' sound because that really hurt, especially because I hit my head against the metal pole that held our tent up. I held onto my arm because I felt like he pulled my muscle.

"Hear me now... you don't talk back! You make no excuses! You listen to me! You answer correctly! Do you understand?!" He bent down and he looked even more intimidating because he was towering over me.

"Yes, Dad," I wish I could control my shaky voice, but I can't.

"I don't want you leavin' this tent until I say so!"

"But, I need to tell Jim to go-" It all happened so fast. The pain I felt when his boot made contact with the side of my stomach was like one I never felt before. I felt a disgusting, slimy, and iron taste in my throat as I coughed loudly.

"What did I say?! No talkin' back!" He repeated. Why can't I just keep my mouth shut when I need to? "Stupid kid," And with that, he left the tent. I turned on my side, my hand leaving my head and clutching my stomach as I coughed. I covered my mouth with one hand but noticed blood splashing all over it. Disgusting. My head was still in pain from hiding the metal pole, but I think the pain in my stomach was worse.

...

"Alright, everybody, listen up," Dean didn't stay in the tent for long because we were moving. We're leaving the Quarry. "Those of you with CBs, we're gonna be on channel forty. Let's keep the chatter down, okay? Now you got a problem, don't have a C.B., can't get a signal or anything at all, you're gonna hit your horn one time. That'll stop the caravan. Any questions?"