Negan's Daughter

Chapter 2

NEGAN'S DAUGHTER
Chapter Two
"I Can See Your Damn Socket!

The smell of grilled cheese entered my nose as I sat on my bed. It was a small room, in fact, I wouldn't call it a room. My dad shares his huge room with Lucille, but gave me the closet inside. I sleep on a small blanket near the door. I looked to my right and smiled at the picture frames I had.

Of me.

Of dad.

Of mom.

Together.

Happy.

It's too bad we'll never be like that again.

~

A loud bang rose on my door and I almost jumped out of my blanket. I realized I had fallen asleep with the picture of our family in my hands. I couldn't let dad see this.

"It's daddy," the cruel voice laughed. It wasn't as cruel as yesterday's voice, but it was heartless.

I quickly hid the picture under my blankets and opened the closet door. My dad smiled at me, but he wasn't alone. There was a boy beside him. He had long, unkempt hair with a white eyepatch that covered his left eye. The look in his eyes showed him to be frightened, but I could tell he was trying to act brave.

"Who's this?" I asked, he seemed so familiar...

Of course! That was the boy the sick women had hugged. Maybe that was her son.

"This is Carl," Negan said shaking Carl while holding him by the shoulder. "Rick's son."

Wait, does that mean the sick women and Rick are married? Then how come the Asian man stood up for her? Maybe their related? Ugh, this is just too much for my brain. I should just ask Carl. But, not yet. I don't want to get to attached to this enemy stranger.

"Come with me," Negan said and took Carl to sit on the couch with him. "Salem, you come, too." He said.

I wanted to die, right there. Maybe he would kill this young man right in front of me to try to make me laugh. But it wouldn't make me laugh, in fact, I feel like I'd suffer without him. Suffer. Suffer. Suffer.....

"Yes, daddy." I said and took a seat beside him.

Lucille was gripped tight in his grasp, and I couldn't help but feel my stomach being tied into knots. He was only young, my dad couldn't bring himself to hurt him.

"Can I see what's under there?" My dad asked slyly, gesturing towards the white bandage plastered on his eye.

"No." Carl said without hesitation.

"Come on, let me see...."

"No."

"Come on, boy. You killed two of my men. This'll make up for it." My dad said with a smirk.

Carl hesitated, but the look of pity in my eyes made him agree.
Maybe he thought I was just as cruel as my father. I wanted to tell him I was not, but he'd never believe me. And I couldn't say things like that in front of my dad.

Carl took ahold of his bandage, and I watched as he unraffled it repeatedly. All I wanted to do was go run to my closet and hide under the blankets, push my dad out of the way and take Carl with me to my closet and keep him safe. Away from my dad. But my dad wanted this, he wanted me to see how he cracked people. Made them suffer. Just like he would with me.
This was a heads-up, a warning. He'd kill me if it came to that, I know, but he'd never hurt me. He could chop my head off now, and it wouldn't hurt. He knew I'd be happy where I turned out to be. He'd smack me in the head with Lucille just like he did with m----- ... never mind. But it would be over. Just like that.

Carl finished unwrapping it, and flinched a little once it tore off his eye.
I wonder if anything is actually hidden under there.
His hair covered whatever wound he had under there, and his other eye was full of tears and anger, hatred. Hatred again.

"Go ahead..." my dad whispered softly, that spine-tingling voice crept into my soul once again. I knew it did the same for Carl, because he almost stopped what he was doing. But he starred into my dad's eyes with confidence, and I could tell he was pretty brave.

Carl swooshed his hair to the side, his eye steady on me. I felt as if he was maybe worried I would be afraid of him, or maybe he wanted me to be. But by the look he gave me I could tell he was traumatized, maybe he gave me the look to order my father to stop.
I couldn't help but stare at the wound, his eye was completely gone, and all I could see was his socket. It was disgusting, really, but he looked pretty fierce.
It was in some sort of circular shape, and it had purple and red bits of skin. It looked as if I could see some part of his skull at the very bottom, a white surface. But mainly there was just purple and red gooey items where his perfectly good eye should be.

"Man, kid! That is some disgusting shit!" My dad cackled. "Can I touch it?"

I felt completely disgusted in my father.

Carl said nothing, but I shook my head at my dad that made him start to seem impatient. I felt sort of bad, but I knew it was for the best.

"I can see your damn socket!" My dad said, pestering Carl once more.

Tears began to form in Carl's eye, but he wouldn't let them down. He was unlike me. I would've bursted by now, but not him.

I could tell my dad was just waiting to him to crack, to burst, to spill out every last tear he had, but he was tough. He seemed like a kickass hell of a guy to me. He was kinda cute, too. God, don't start this, Salem....

"Kid, you killed two of my men," My dad said, interrupting she stare that I never noticed me and Carl had. Carl's eyes shot up to look at my dad who just stood up.

Carl was silent, and so was I.

"You know what I want you to do, kid?"

Silence.

"I want you to sing me a song..."