My Little Pup

Chapter 21

Various hues of orange and brown fill my vision, both from above and below. The leaves hold tightly to the branches of their hosts, refusing to release, even as the temperature dwindles each day. Those who have been swept away by the autumn breeze now lay as an amber blanket covering the forest floor. A few even sprinkle the Sanctuary grounds lined by the fence.

I sigh and sit back further against the exposed brick of the warehouse exterior. Despite the slight chill in the air, the warmth radiating from the bricks has kept me relatively comfortable for the past half hour that I've been out here.

I hear some clanking and glance to my left, spotting Simon hunched over the hood of his truck, tools and parts littering the gravel around his feet. It's his morning to keep an eye on me and he needed to do some work on his truck, meaning I must be outside with him. I'm not complaining, though. Negan's kept me cooped up in the apartment since the attack on Fat Joey, so a bit of sunshine and fresh air is a well needed break from the four walls of his space.

I was originally hoping to get a quick nap while out here, but the constant banging, clanking, and occasional frustrated curse from Simon has made that difficult. Sleep and I have been on tense terms for the past week or so, only allowing me to get a couple hours of restless sleep each night.

Simply put, night has become my enemy. It's been the one time of the day when my subconscious thoughts and worries would bombard me in full force. During the day, I had my chores and petty duties to keep both mind and body distracted. Though, I've struggled to keep up with the 'doting' wife act that I've convinced myself to put on earlier. Then, in the quiet of the night, the demons would pound on the door, demanding entry and attention.

Since the fight with my dad, I've found myself wide awake, pacing the living room floor, at three AM. I haven't been able to sleep, no matter how hard I've tried. I would toss and turn in bed until I couldn't take it anymore. With Negan being such a heavy sleeper, it was easy enough to slip from under the covers and out of the room without disturbing him.

Once in the living room, I would pace and process my dad's words as they continuously echoed in my mind. A part of me wondered if what he said had any merit behind it. It caused me to doubt myself and the decisions that I've made thus far. I tried to mentally re-enact different scenarios, wondering maybe if I had done something different, my dad and I would not be in this situation. That maybe he was right, I've betrayed him and his trust.

The thing is, I wanted to find a lapse in my decision making. Anything to put me in the wrong and validate my dad's emotional tirade, because I didn't want to believe that he could so easily turn a cold shoulder to me without a legitimate reason. Each time I closed my eyes, I could see him looking at me as if I had changed sides; pledging my allegiance to the Saviors and standing at the right hand of Negan himself.

Deep down, I knew that he believed it to be true. I could see it in his eyes. As if he didn't recognize the person standing before him, as if I were nothing more than a stranger.

I could've easily said the same about him. That what I had seen on my visits wasn't my father, but only a shell of his former self. No... my father vanished the moment Negan stepped foot on our property and turned our lives into absolute shit because of my father's past mistakes. I don't even know what to make of what's left of him.

I did what I believed was necessary to guarantee any sort of safety for him and myself, and because of that, I'm alone.

Completely alone.

The tears would freely fall upon that realization. Only when the low sobs ceased would I tiptoe back to Negan's room and try to muster myself to sleep. The cycle repeated the next night, and every night that has followed thus far.