We're not living, we're surviving

11

Please read 'Emilia's Story' before reading this part, it'll ease up any confusion.

Emilia's POV

My fault, it was all my fault.

The banging in my brain hadn't stopped since I'd returned, nor had I had a moment of peace. At least one of the group members was with me at all times, and it was driving me crazy.

Now, however, I was sat behind the barn, hoping no one would find me here. I just needed to think, to...to... I don't know.

I hadn't saved her, and all my brain kept saying was "Just like you hadn't saved Thomas."

It kept bringing everything back to my child, to the boy I'd lost, I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't be around people, smiling at them like everything was okay when I'd all but pulled the trigger on that poor little girl myself.

"Emilia, I...is it okay for me to sit with you." I didn't move, I couldn't move. It was Carol, I knew that much. I don't know if I'd be able to bare it if she thanked me for bringing her daughter back to her. It was only at the cost of another's life that I did so. "I just wanted to tell you how grateful I am to you. you brought my Sophia back to me."

Still I stared at the patch of ground in front of me. I really didn't want to have to talk about this, not now, not ever. I'd much rather have a few days to myself before getting back to the community, before forgetting about Georgia and how she'd died because of me.

"Please, just listen to me, you did good." Carol continued. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a hand reaching out for me, to comfort me, but I flinched away. I didn't deserve it. My gaze locked with Carol's. I was begging myself not to start crying, not to allow myself to show how vulnerable I was to Carol.

As the first tear rolled down my cheek, however, I could do nothing but run. Run back into the forest without looking back. I ran in a straight line, though deep down I was almost hoping to get lost again. Then I wouldn't be responsible for anyone's safety and no one would be responsible for me. It was unlikely I'd survive if I was by myself, if I was lost out here with no one to watch my back, but right now I didn't care. I just wanted to run.

The tears that fell almost blinded me, but through my blurred vision I could see the shapes of trees in front of me. Not only could I see them, but I could feel as the branches whipped at my cheeks and arms. It stung, and perhaps I was bleeding, but I didn't care, I just needed to get away from there, to be alone for a few minutes.

I stopped running when I came to a small clearing, wiping my eyes from the tears that had fallen, my breathing heavy as I looked around, pressing my lips together in an attempt to calm down. there was pain on my bare arms as well as my cheeks, but I didn't look to see what it was.

In the clearing was a few trees other than those surrounding it, but other than that there was little else here. Most importantly, however, was the fact that there was no people and no walkers, it was in complete solitude.

Anger welled up inside me as I thought of my failure, not just to save Georgia, but also to save Alex, Dylan and everyone else we'd lost since this whole thing started, and before I knew it I was lashing out, punching a tree next to me, ripping off branches, hurling my weight around as I screamed in anguish.

I didn't care if any walkers heard me, they could come for all I cared. I'd kill them, smash their skulls open and keep pounding until there was nothing left.

I felt arms on my shoulders, though they weren't those of a walker. I turned, tears still falling down my face as I buried my face in the person's chest. I could tell, just from the grip that it was Daryl.

Carol must've told him that I'd run off, either that or he'd heard my screaming while hunting. But I didn't care why he was here, it just mattered to me that he was here at all. One of his hands came up soothingly stroking the back of my hair, the other, rubbing my back.

He felt tense, perhaps from the touch action, but it meant a lot that he was stepping out of his comfort zone for me. "It was all my fault." I said into him, though my words were muffled by my tears and his shirt.

He stayed silent, just comforting me.

His hand shifted, moving my face to look at his, a thumb gently running over my cheeks. "You look like you've had a beating, 'Milia." He mumbled, his other hand lifting my hands to examine, "Let's get back to camp, fix you up." It wasn't said as a suggestion, though, more of an order.

I couldn't even decline, I simply went with it, trailing behind him like a small child would a parent.

I am sorry this sucks, I tried, I really did. D: