"Hey!" A voice called out to me. My head was spinning, accompanied by a throbbing headache. I was too tired, too tired to even open my eyes. Hopefully if I keep them closed, whoever's talking will leave me alone. "Michaela!" Just play dead, they'll go away. THUNK!
"OWW!" I groaned as I grabbed my head in pain.
"Hey!" I forced my eyes open, only to see the leaves in the tree above. "Down here!" I slowly turned my head to see Shane standing nearly ten feet below me. Wait... below me? I looked around and groaned as I realized where I was. A tree. How in the hell did I end up in a fucking tree? "What're ya doin' up there?" Shane asked.
"Not a fuckin' clue." I answered. "Didn't your mom ever tell ya you ain't supposed to throw rocks at people?"
"That she did, but she ain't ever said anythin' about throwin' peaches." Shane chuckled.
"Must ya yell? I got a fuckin' headache."
"That's what happens when ya drink too much, darlin'." I held out my arm to the side and flipped him off. "Why don't ya c'mon down? Breakfast is almost ready."
"No can do, Walsh."
"What's wrong? Afraid of heights?"
"No, just don't know how the hell I got up here."
"What's that gotta do with it?"
"If I don't know my way up, I don't know my way down."
"Just drop down, I'll catch ya." Shane chuckled.
"Bullshit." I scoffed.
"Fine, stay up there then." Shane turned to walk away.
"Wait!" Shane stopped and smiled. "I swear if ya drop me, I'll cut your fuckin' balls off."
"Jeez, you're actin' as if ya weigh five hundred pounds. Just drop down already." A large branch rested against the middle of my back, it was a wonder how I didn't roll out of the tree in my sleep. I took a nervous deep breath before rolling off to the side, landing safely in Shane's arms. "Told ya I'd catch ya."
"Thanks, now if the Earth could stop spinnin'-"
"Want me to carry ya back to camp?" Shane smirked.
"I can walk." I stated as I climbed out of his arms, staggering to catch my balance. "What happened last night?"
"You tell me."
"I remember drinkin' and talkin' to Carol, Andrea, Lori, and Daryl, but that's about it." I followed Shane back to the main camp where Carol was beginning to serve breakfast. The smell of the scrambled eggs nauseated me beyond belief, I never want to get drunk again.
"Look who I found." Shane smiled. "Found 'er passed out ten feet up in the peach tree."
"Is this your first hangover?" Andrea asked. I slowly nodded as I took a seat beside Daryl.
"It's Michaela's first hangover, guys." Rick smiled. "Let's give 'er a round of applause." Everyone instantly began to clap, I covered my ears and groaned.
"I fuckin' hate all of y'all." I groaned. T-Dog handed me a plate of eggs, beans, and canned ham.
"Protein helps the hangover." T-Dog smiled.
"Thank you, Dr. T." I half smiled and began to scarf down my breakfast. I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder to see Daryl passing me a bottle of water. I gave him a gentle nod and took the bottle from him. I took a quick drink before passing it back to him. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Shane eyeballing us as he took a bite of his ham. "I didn't act like an ass did I?"
YOU ARE READING
Surviving The Walking Dead (BOOK ONE IN THE SURVIVING THE WALKING DEAD SERIES)
Fanfiction*FOLLOWS ALONG WITH THE SHOW* Michaela Simmonds was born and raised in Atlanta, Georgia, the daughter of a paranoid war veteran father, and an industrious mother who worked as a nurse at Grady Memorial Hospital. Tragedy strikes and she is forced to...
