IT ALMOST WORKED ! the walking dead ! season 3 episode 1 !
" you couldn't save me but you cant let me go "
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
SLEEP DIDNT COME easy for most of the group. sleep plagued by nightmares of the dead, walkers finding a way to haunt them even when they slept. it was enough to drive one mad, between the lack of sleep and the never ending fear that ate at him from the inside out, it was exhausting. the cell block had just began to fill with light, the sun peeking in from the few windows. it was quiet for a while, with lee simply staring at the top of the bunk he laid beneath. his brain never stopped, it was as if the thoughts he had couldn't find a way to rest. he wished sleep came easy to him, his body desperate for a decent night of sleep. his limbs ached, and his body burned, and dark bags resided beneath his eyes, his mind had began to take a toll on everything else. constantly locked within his mind, being forced to endure whatever he could think of.
he could distantly remember when he'd caught his appearance in a mirror roughly a month prior. he could hardly recognize himself by that point. his appearance stayed roughly the same, but his eyes showed what his appearance couldn't. his eyes were sunken in, they were dull, as if the life had been sucked clean from his eyes. they were masked with what he had seen, what he had lived through in such a short amount of time. the once soft hazel color had now turned into a deep brown, a dark pool of nothingness. one where all he could see was the numbness that he felt throughout his whole being. yet his appearance had too changed, his hair was longer, the soft curls reaching just above the bottom of his ears. the curls were less defined then they normally were, yet that may of been the reason they looked healthier. his skin was dirt ridden, he hated the feeling of feeling dirty, but it clung to him like a second layer. yet, his appearance wasn't the only thing had changed, everything about the walsh boy had changed, from the length of his hair to how he acted, how he held himself.
he was harsher, meaner. after his father had died, everything about him changed, and it wasn't for the better. he had a shorter temper, lips often curled into a scowl, distancing himself from the others seemed to be not only better for himself but for them too. he hated the new version of himself, he didn't like anything about himself anymore, he wished to be the old him. wished to act how he used to, because then he wouldn't be alone. he tried to act how he used to, but it only made him hurt. made his skin burn, and his nails scratch until he was withering in pain. he hated how he began to push everyone away from himself, perhaps it made it easier for him, for him to slowly begin to cope; he knew it wasn't for the best.
deep down he knew it was only making him feel worse. he'd forced himself to deal with his emotions, deal with the loss of his father on his own. which was only damaging himself and his relationships with the others. he knew that well, but he didn't bother to make himself change. he couldn't change when he didn't know how, no matter what he did he always seemed to be harsh, rude, cruel. he'd say things he didn't mean, he'd regret them as soon as they left his tongue. yet that didn't mean he apologized for it, because he didn't.
