IT ALMOST WORKED ! the walking dead ! season 3 episode 1 !
" you couldn't save me but you cant let me go "
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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. the cell block had just began to fill with light, the sun peeking in from the few windows.
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'd caught his appearance days prior, in a house they'd searched through, catching a glimpse of himself in the dirty mirror. his hair was longer, his curls more apparent, healthier yet still coated in an uncomfortable amount of grease of the lack of washing his hair. he hated the feeling of dirt and grim on his skin, yet it still clung to him like a second skin. his eyes were darker too, the once bright brown eyes now a dark pool of nothing, a deep brown to the point his eyes nearly looked black. he looked older, more mature, he assumed it was from what he endured.
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.
the air was cold, nipping at his skin as he looked over the table, tired eyes scanning the items that laid neatly on the circular table. his hands flat against the surface, teeth sinking into the inside of his cheek. an assortment of items they'd gotten from the walkers dressed in swag uniforms lay on the table. a few of the group members stood around the table, hands messing with the new items they'd gathered from the walker bodies.
