new beginnings

What A Day

Dad and Daryl watched us. Daryl seemed more surprised than Dad, probably because Dad has seen us kiss before. But not like this. It was long and slow, as if we were in one of those romance novels that I decided to read because I couldn't find comics. Like, we could've been in a movie or something. His hands were on the sides of my face and mine were on his lower back. Fireworks could've gone off.

Everyone else who had come out of their houses watched, obviously. After he pulled away, Carol, Michonne, Deanna, Spencer, Enid, Bryan, and Sarah were all taken aback. Sarah actually grinned, mainly because she knew, anyway. But maybe one of the reasons people looked surprised was because Ron had blood all over his hands and he got a lot of it on my face. Maybe the tears on our faces gave away something was wrong, too.

Then life cleared back up and our little cliché moment faded away.

"What... what happened?" Deanna asked.

Ron looked at me, It seemed like he was in the same trance as I was. Then, again, his lips quivered and even more tears came on. He hid his face in his hands. I held on to him since I still didn't have my crutches. Dad took a break from staring at us and he went inside and came back with the crutches. He handed them to me and I put them under my arms but still stayed close to Ron. Daryl went up to Deanna and whispered, but I could hear what he said.

"Sam's dead. Suicide," he spoke. Ron didn't hear it, which would've set him off even further. Deanna gasped and stared at the ground.

I guessed the others heard, because they all shook their heads and had a look of horror on their faces. They looked at each other as if the other person had the answer to why he did it. But I was the only one who knew. I didn't know how I was going to show that note to him.

I whispered to Ron that we should go, so he got his hands out of his face and started walking slowly along with me, so I could keep up. I just followed him because I didn't know where he wanted to go. He was heading to the house Jessie was in. I felt a knot in my stomach but continued along with him.

We went into the house and Ron slammed open the bathroom door. We were slapped in the face with a disgusting smell. A deranged Jessie sat on the floor, arms chained to the pipe. She looked us dead in the eyes. Then we saw where the odor was coming from. Jessie defecated on herself.

"What the hell do you want now?" she said.

"We need to talk," Ron said firmly.

"About the fact that I'm imprisoned and forced to humiliate myself? They don't let me get up to use a fucking bathroom so I had to shit in my pants," she shifted uncomfortably.

She looked at us as if we were animals. "That's right. Every shred of dignity that I had is gone."

Ron looked at me in disgust.

"We need to talk about Sam," he said, and his voice broke a little. I could tell he was trying to be strong.

"What now?" she said, as if we interrupted something important that she was doing.

"He fucking killed himself because of you!" I yelled before Ron could respond.

She showed no emotion when I yelled that. She just stared at the wall, like if I just told her as something as insignificant as the sky is blue.

"Huh," she said after a few seconds that felt like years.

"Is that fucking it? That's all you have to say? He killed himself because you told him to! Your own son!" Ron yelled after the tears came right back again.

She just sat there, like she had the same amount of emotion as a plank of wood. I don't know how anyone could act that calm in that situation.

"Well, he backtalked me, so why should I feel sorry?" she said.