A few days after my conversation with Will, he, Leslie, and Luke went to go drop Sawyer off in Tennessee so he would never get back to camp. Harry had told us in our meeting that they wouldn't be back for a week or so. It made me nervous to know that Will was going to be out there, but I trusted his ability to survive. He always had and he always would.
Camp life was slow and I decided I would pull more shifts in the kitchen to keep me away from all of the bullshit outside of it. The kitchen staff were laid back and didn't care about any of the drama in camp. They were like me and wanted to stay far from it.
During the lunch shift today, I ate before the crowd of people came in, but once they did I made an announcement on how serving was going to change. I spoke about how food was being thrown away and how unacceptable it was. The kitchen staff would now serve the food but only for lunch and dinner. There would not be breakfast served anymore since that was the time when people wasted the most food. And all of the food not eaten was supposed to be brought back home with them.
A few unsatisfied grumbles sounded from the crowd but most nodded their head and understood where I was coming from.
The days after dragged on and on with nothing to do but worry about Will and when he was coming home. I read a couple books that weren't even that good. I played outside basketball with Ciara, Ben, and some of Ben's friends. But still, the days and nights morphed into each other and I realized how bored and uneventful life was.
The day was soon gone and I knew I wouldn't sleep for the night, so I went to the kitchen to mop the floors of the sitting area. I came through the back and started humming an old Justin Timberlake song. I grabbed the mop and a bucket of soapy water to take to the sitting area when I saw Harry sitting at a table by himself.
Confused with why he was there, I walked over to him realizing quickly that there was a bottle of bourbon in front of him. My chest ached for him. I sat in front of him and looked into his sad, red-rimmed eyes. Oh Harry...
"Hi," I said.
"Hi," he sniffled and flexed his jaw staring at the bottle between us.
"What are you doing?"
He gave me a look that said 'are you seriously asking me that right now' and said out loud, "What the fuck does it look like I'm doing?"
"Having fun without me," I raised one eyebrow and took the glass bottle and tipped it back to let the fiery liquor go down my throat. I made a face with how strong the liquor was and Harry smirked probably laughing at how naive I am again.
"What do you usually drink?" He asked taking another swig.
"Merlot," I said as the liquid swelled in my chest burning my esophagus.
"Classy bitch, huh?" He smirked again and shoved the bottle in my direction.
"No more," I shook my head not wanting anymore alcohol so I could stay in control of my surroundings.
"Don't be a sissy, Jane," he shoved it in my direction again.
"Harry, no," I chuckled with how his mood had gone from 0 to 100 real quick. I leaned my elbow on the table between us and rested my head in my palm. "Why are you drinking?"
He took another shot of it and made a bitter face this time too. He was about to be plastered and I was about to have to peel him off the floor.
"Do you want to go back to your place?" I asked him without realizing the unintentional connotation with the words I spoke.
YOU ARE READING
Escape the Walking Dead // h.s.
Science Fiction"Have you ever had to kill people because they had already killed your friends and were coming for you next? Have you ever done things that made you feel afraid of yourself afterward? Have you ever been covered in so much blood that you didn't know...
