Remains Of Ray (TWD Fanfic) [Rewritten]

My own Heaven, or my own Hell

I've been outside for god knows how long, hoping maybe the cold will stop my blood flow the way it so mercifully put the walkers out of their misery.

I've been lost in thought for probably hours, staring at the stars.

But, as if on cue, a footstep sound in the grass breaks me from my own heaven, or maybe my own hell.

I snap my head to the left, the way from which the sound came. A tall shadow paints itself above me, and fewar fills my heart as the blood pumps. I can only think - hope it's a walker, here to end it for me.

I stare up at the figure, fear probably painted on my face as a portrait.

"Why're you still out here?" a familiar southern accent strangely soothes my growing anxiety.

I don't offer any verbal answer, I only shrug and return to my endless starting contest with the stars.

He stands there for a moment, probably debating weather or not I'm crazy. To my surprise, I find him laying next to me, still a significant amount of space between us.

The space doesn't make it harder for me to hear him, though. Even if he says nothing, I can hear his breaths, see the warm air flowing from his nose.

He uses his arms as a pillow, as I've been doing.

"I been watching you," his cheesey accent catches my attention after a long silence. "- and something ain't right."

I break my eyes from the sky, and slowly let them fall on his face, which I can barely see in the dim moonlight, but his eyes are bright with the reflection of the stars.

"You're actin' like this all changed you." he explains. I can't decide what he's talking about, but my few ideas linger in my mind.

I study his thoughtful expression, thinking of the right answer.

"It did change me." I finally say, almost timidly. My voice isn't very loud, but he can hear me. The silence in this world can't drown me out.

A lack of words seems to devour him, as he searches for what to say.

"Why'd it take so long?" he finally asks.

"What do you mean?" I ask almost immediately in response.

He repeats the short silence before he speaks, something I'm beginning to understand is his strong suit. "Everyone in this group changes quick." he says. "They drop themselves so fast." I watch his face as he says this. He let's another pause draw out. "When I met you, I thought that was what y'd become. I thought your smartass would never shut the hell up.

"But that was just you. Now, you're different." he finishes.

I can't help but get lost in his face as he says this, even though he never makes an effort to look at me.

I can't seem to fork over any reply, so he continues: "So- Why'd it take so long?"

It takes longer than I like to answer this, but it's possibly the hardest question ever asked, the sharpest daggar ever shot.

"I guess-" I stutter. I didn't quite have the answer yet, but I needed to break the pressuring silence. "I guess.. I guess I just thought that if I held on to myself, then-" Answering this question seems to get harder and harder the more I think about it. "..then one day, I'd find people who did the same. Then it'd be like everything was okay again. It'd.." Then I wouldn't feel so fucking alone, so desperate, so lost.