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most of us were gathered around the low campfire in the barn, trying our hardest to get warm. the storm was worse than we thought, so immediately, we had to find shelter.
me, rick, michonne, glenn, carol, daryl, carl, judith, and lola were circled at the fire, technically the kids were sleeping, and we were awake. lola had my black bomber jacket on, that luckily was half-dry from being stuffed in my satchel for so long. i was at ease that the kids were sleeping, that they could sleep peacefully without having to worry about keeping one eye open.
harsh rain pattered on the old wooden roof of this barn, thunder clapped in the distance every thirty seconds or so. we never dealt with rain this bad before, even after the farm months ago, this type of weather was new to us. unexpectedly—then again, i got freezing cold chills. i pressed the back of my hand on my forehead gently, it was burning hot. shit, do i have a fever?
"i used to feel sorry for kids that have to grow up now, in this. but i think i got it wrong, growing up is getting used to the world. this is easier for them." rick speaks up, twirling a random leaf he picked up from his side.
i chuckled, leaning the side of my head on his shoulder, god, i felt tired more than anything, what worried me most was, i think the cut on my arm was causing this, infection maybe?
"this isn't the world, this isn't it." michonne replies back with a shake of her head. "it might be, it might." glenn reasoned, twirling his knife on the ground. "that's giving up."
"it's reality."
"until we see otherwise—this is what we have to live with." rick spoke, ending the argument glenn and michonne were cooking up, "when i was a kid—i asked my grandpa if he ever killed any germans in the war. he wouldn't answer, he said that was grown up stuff so—so i asked if any of the germans tried to kill him. he got real quiet."
rick paused, "he said he was dead the minute he stepped into enemy territory. everyday he woke up, told himself 'rest in peace, now get up, and go to war'. and then after a few years of pretending he was dead, he made it out alive."
he paused again, taking in a breath, "that's the trick of it, i think. we do what we need to do, and then, we get to live. but no matter what we find in d.c, i know we'll be okay. because this, is how we survive. we tell ourselves, that we—are the walking dead."
i couldn't help but think about it, but rick was right. we've always done what we've had to do, no matter what, and we've always been okay. no matter what we go through, we're gonna be okay, no matter what happens or what he had to do to live—we'll be okay.
"we ain't them." daryl gruffly mutters, standing up from his position.
he was referring to rick's last words, but i know we aren't the walkers—the walkers have no purpose in their miserable days, no purpose in eating people, nothing. but we, on the other hand, we do, we do have a purpose, to keep fighting. "we aren't them." rick assures daryl, pulling his attention, "hey. we're not."
without answering for a brief moment, daryl stands up with his crossbow, "we ain't." he mutters before walking away towards the barn entrance. soon enough, we all went back to silence again.
surprisingly, i feel rick grab my shoulders, and push me away a little to get a better look at me. "hey—are you okay?"
he must've noticed my weakened expression even in the dark, but that's exactly how i felt, weak, beaten. after weeks of pushing through, i didn't want to anymore, because i was so tired, and felt so weak.
but i know i had to, rick, the kids, and the group are counting on me to keep going, so i will, at no matter cost.
"yeah, i'm fine." i protest calmly to rick, slowly standing up from my position, i was grabbing onto everything in my direction to where i was headed, i felt like collapsing, but i won't. i turn a dark corner in the barn—finding abraham sitting there, drinking down the bottle of booze.
seeing me staring at him—he slowly raised an eyebrow, his expression clearing stating confusion on what i wanted. "you okay?" i ask him with concern, and i was concerned, about everyone, and how they were doing. he nods, "i'm as okay as a good ol' fresh pickle, what about you angel face?"
i let out a gentle chuckle at the nickname he gave me, "i'm pushing through, but i just wanted to see how you were." abraham nods in understanding, and i went to turn around when his voice stopped me, "hey, angel face?"
at my weakened state, i slowly turned around, raising a confused eyebrow at him. "back at the church—i'm sorry for being an asshole to you. every man in this world should know you do not talk back to women disrespectfully—that was bad on my part, for that i apologize."
i sent him a small smile, my view on abraham quickly changed, he meant well, he was just very determined and authoritative in that very moment back at the church. "i forgive you." i tell him before moving back towards the campfire.
