This Is How I Disappear (Negan/OFC)

Chapter 3

Simon leads Chuck to the stairwell and they begin to descend. He pushes Chuck gently through the first floor doors upon reaching the bottom and they make their way through the meandering halls to a back stairwell that leads to the basement, silent the whole way.

"What happened, Chuck? What did you do, kiddo? Why is Negan punishing you?" Simon breaks the silence as they approach several metal doors lining a long, dark hallway.

"It... doesn't matter. I just... want to get this over with, please."

Simon walks to one of the doors begrudgingly, pulls out a key, and opens it up. The room is small, just slightly bigger than a broom closet and completely stark except for a bucket in one corner.

This should be interesting. I don't really know what I was expecting, but...

"Get in." Simon motions into the cell and she obeys.

"How long will I-"

He closes the door without another word.

I guess that's part of the punishment, not knowing how long I'll be in here. This might not be so bad, I mean, I don't mind being alone. Sure, it's dark and uncomfortable, but it's not exactly torturous, is it? I guess I'm glad I'm not on "fence duty".

I wonder what's the longest someone has stayed in here. And do different infractions have different lengths of punishment? Like, "five days for stealing, one for not kneeling fast enough, SEVENTY-FIVE FOR FLIRTING WITH WIFE NUMBER THREE!"

She makes herself giggle with her internal Negan impression, but it fades quickly. She realizes that she must be getting delirious from lack of sleep. She paces around a bit, letting the gravity of her situation sink in, and then sits down on the cold concrete.

Hmm. Yup. This is going to get uncomfortable really quickly. I wish I had put on a sweater today. I could use it as a pillow. Or blanket. It's actually kinda cold in here. Jeez, I'm already complaining and I've only been in here, what, three minutes?

I need to keep my mind occupied. Think of something. I wonder what Negan's men are doing at Rolling Acres. Maybe they'll plant more crops. There's room for it there. Of raise animals. They might be more successful than I was at keeping them. I wonder how many people Negan has stationed there. Would someone live in my old room? Sleep on that bed... Okay, I don't want to think about that.

A song, maybe. I wonder if people are still making music out there. God, I would love to play something again. I probably can here. The fences are far enough away that the dead won't be attracted by it. I was always so afraid to play before. Even at Rolling Acres. I wish I had my mom's old guitar. It wasn't in the house when I went back there to see if she was...

I miss her so much. I wonder what she would tell me to do now. She always knew just what to say to make me feel better...

--- Chuck's POV ---

- 7 years ago -

"You okay, sweetie? The doctor said you can take your pain pills every four hours. You should be about due for some." My mom is staring at me from the other side of the couch, knitting a blanket for her work friend's daughter who's pregnant. The tv is playing an episode of Grey's Anatomy. I never really liked that show, but my mom absolutely loves it.

"Oh. No. I'm okay. I can hold off on the drugs for a while," I'm not really in too much pain at the moment. I have my cast left foot propped up on our ottoman, with a few pillows underneath it for extra comfort. I can't believe that I broke my ankle going down two stairs on our porch! What kind of a klutz does that? Ruined my whole weekend. Now I have to go into school tomorrow and try to hobble around to all of my classes. I haven't even really gotten the hang of these crutches, yet.