IT ALMOST WORKED ! the walking dead ! season 3 episode 5 !
" take my mind and take my pain " slight mentions of sh !
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WHY? that seemed to be all colette could think of, why. she couldn't understand it, why didn't she try harder. she should've fought against maggie, pushed her away from her mothers withering frame, stopped her from slicing lori open.
she could've done something, ran back, gotten the others, she would've made it; she knew she was fast enough. why hadn't she don't that.
it seemed it eat at her, thinking of any other possible scenario where her mother survived. where she stopped crying, and used her head. why hadn't she done something, anything, she didn't try, she just sat there and cried, sobbed as her mothers body went limp, until her chest stopped rising and falling, skin a sickly pale.
her heart had stopped thumping, the blood lose and the pain that shot up her body sent her into shock, stopping her heart. natalia had heard the final breath escape her mothers lips, felt her hand go limp inside of her own.
she hated that she'd just sat there. cried like a child, let choked sobs escape her lips. she hated it all. how everytime she shut her eyes all she could see was her mothers body, ears ringing and the sound of her screams echoing in her mind.
she wanted it to stop. she needed it to all just stop.
her mind worked over time, finding every way to place the blame on herself. she'd spoken of being able to handle it, how she was strong, knew what she was doing; clearly she didn't. she couldn't handle it, and she most certainly did not know what she was doing. she lectured carl on acting his age, stop trying to take an adult role, she wished she'd taken her own advice.
she wasn't sure why, but the strong emotion of anger, of hatred, burned in her chest. why did the baby get to survive, why couldn't her mother of. she'd wished her mother would've been selfish, saved herself rather then the child that ultimately led to her demise. she felt wrong, hating a child that couldnt decide to take her mother from her; but she did.
she hated herself for it, hating a baby that was less then an hour old made her feel sick to her stomach. she wanted to love the baby, wanted to cherish and promise to keep it safe, rather she didn't want anything to do with it. she didn't want to be around it, she didn't want to help it, she wanted nothing to do with it.
her eyes bored into the ceiling, face stoic. she wanted to feel anything but the numbness and anger that consumed her. a soft knock against the concrete wall echoed through the cell, her eyes danced to the opening of her cell, before they returned back to the gray ceiling.
in a funny way she felt gray. lost of all happiness, of all color that had once consumed her entire being. she'd felt it slowly disappear throughout the winter, now, it was sucked clean from her body. leaving her soul, mind, and heart, a decaying gray color.
