Safe and Sound | TWD

Chapter 16

~8 months later~

I should have expected this. I don't know why I didn't. Am I extremely naive, or hopeful for a better, bright future? I think I am just simply....stupid.

Looking over our shoulders every second, sleeping with one eye open. Freezing at night, sweating to death during the day.

No food.

No water.

No home.

It's been taking a toll on every one of us. Slowly over the months, we've began to speak less. We sit in silence, barely moving.  We're alive in only one way that counts--our hearts are still beating.

Mom's pregnancy has been progressing. Everyone's worried about the inevitable fact of her giving birth. I'm also worried about the fact we'll have a baby on the road, with no provisions. Babies need things like warmth, and food, and nurture; care. Will they have that out here? Of course I'm worried about my mother, and of course I want to tell her that but...for some reason, every time I get close to her the words freeze up in my throat and we're left in an awkward silence so tense I know everyone can feel it. I don't want to be angry with her, and it may seem childish or selfish but...a part of me also feels betrayed. Betrayed and lied to.

Carls hair grew. He looks so different now. Older.

I've gotten callouses on my hands from gripping my knife. They started to annoy me at first. Every chance I got I was biting them off. Now they've  become a kind of comfort.

Silas looks different too. The usual spark in his eye has dimmed. His boyish charm erased, and his hair has gotten slightly longer. It covers the tops of his ears now. We've gotten accustomed to knowing what eachothers expressions mean, like a secret code for just us. Our atmosphere feels like glass. Sometimes I feel like the smallest noise will shatter it completely.

I stand watch on the side of the road, my knife in hand. I keep my eyes trained on the trees.

Carl is on the other side, doing the same while everyone else surrounds a map on the hood of one of the cars trying to determine our next move.

Mom sits in the car, keeping out of the sun as much as she can. She hardly speaks either, always tired.

We've been going in circles as of late. No destination as far as the eye can see.

I'm beginning to think the road is our home now. If home even exists anymore.

I feel gross.

Itchy, and dirty. I know I smell like death (literally)  and it makes me cringe. I have never missed a shower more in my life.

If I could shower, I'd scrub my skin raw for hours. Twice.

And I miss toothpaste.

Some of us head off into the wood to fill up on water, dad and Daryl go hunting. Eventually, Silas is by my side, his gun holstered at his side with his hand resting on top of it.

"Never thought I'd hate being outside so much until now." He says quietly. His voice sounds hoarse and tired.

I put my weapon in the waistband of my ratted jeans. My tank top sticks like a second skin and I feel so uncomfortable I could scream.

"Do you think there's a place out there?" My voice feels foreign; odd.

He sighs, "I hope so. It'd be nice to sleep with a roof over our heads."

"And if there isn't?"

"We keep going."

I don't know how he does it. How he's so optimistic about everything. It's hard to imagine a time where I was the same. I feel like this world has eaten me up and spit me back out, then told me to walk it off.