Weak//c.g ✔️

Chapter Thirty

MEADOW FLETCHER'S POV
October 20, 2017

KNOCKING flooded my house, it echoed. I dropped the book I was reading, going to the door and opening it slowly. A man, my father, and mother stood in the doorway. I felt my breathing halt, my lips parted. I promised myself I wouldn't cry. The man cleared his throat, "Ahem, little girl, move aside." 

"W-Wha-" "Move." My father spat, basically pushing me out of the way. I felt my fists clench, my mother had an apologetic look written on her face, she walked passed me. 

"You know, Ryan and I shared this house." I spoke up, my voice cracking a tiny bit. My mother stopped in her tracks, listening, "We had game night, we made cookies. You know, we did almost everything together, just like before." 

My father let out a scoff, "I don't want to hear your life story-" "I'm your daughter, you know? Ryan was your son, he was your own blood and you both watched him get murdered." I let out a shaky breath, my mother turned around, "This is your guys' fault and his blood is on your hands, you both know it."

My father was fast on his heels, he walked quickly up to me, swiftly picking his hand up and connecting it with my cheek, "Daniel!" 

I yelped, hunched over holding my cheek. A metallic taste flooded my mouth. That is the only time my dad has ever hit me. I didn't even feel any tears well up in my eyes. I felt myself shaking, my cheek was numb. I stood up straight, my face was stone cold, blood ran down my cheek from the cut my father left on my face, "Is that all you got, Dad?" I spat.

I felt the old me slipping through the wall I built up. My father's eyes filled with rage, "Hit me, you coward." His nose twitched, "Hit me!" I screamed, "C'mon Danny, hit me!" He picked his hand up, I felt myself move out of the way as he swung at the air. I kicking his knees in, "Meadow!" My mother yelled, the other guy who was in my house tackled me to the ground, I yelled, "Get off! Get off!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. 

The door opened, people flooded into my house. I kicked at the man, he flew back, grunting in pain as he held his genital region. I jumped up, looking at Carl and Rick, then my father and mother, "Get the fuck out of my house, right now!" I yelled, holding Ryan's knife up at them. My mother's face softened as she saw the knife, her eyes welling with tears, "That was Ryan's." She sniffled.

"Get out." I seethed threw my teeth, my blood boiled, "You have no right to bring him up! No right to feel sorry for yourself. You watched him die, you let him die!" I yelled.

"Meadow-" Carl began, he held his hand out, walking towards me, "We don't have to fight them, just let them take what they please, they'll leave sooner." I held my parents at knife point, shaking my head, "They don't deserve to be here."

Rick watched Carl, "I know, I know." He put his hand on my shoulder, grabbing the knife out of my hand, slowly. "I know, Mi." He pointed the knife out towards them, "Take it."

My mom shook her head, "No, it's hers." My dad looked at the ground, "Don't be ridiculous, Joy." "She's our daughter, Daniel." Dad scoffed, "This is what, Negan, was talking about, you're weak." He spat. Dad and the other man walked out of the house, slamming the door shut.

Joy looked at Rick, her eyes filled with apology, "I am so sorry, I'll make this right," Her head turned towards mine, "For Ryan and for you." Mom's boots hit against the wooden floors as she walked out of the house, shutting the door quietly behind her.

"Meadow." Rick spoke up, "Maybe it's time you move in with more people, just for now." I shook my head, "I can't just leave, Rick, this is mine and Ryan's home."

"Just for now." Carl said, his eyes pleaded with mine, "You can stay with us, it'd be just like old times."

I kept quiet. "We have a couch, I just think it'd be better to be around people, don't you think?" Rick asked. I nodded my head slowly, "I'll pack."

Carl followed me up the stairs and into my room. The front door shut.

I went to my closet, packing the clothes that was left. A few tank tops, short sleeve shirts, and pants. I was in the zone, shoving whatever I wanted to keep. There was a sketch book on the floor of my closet, I opened it. Carl towered over me, looking at it. I drew the church, before we ransacked the place. A drawing of Bob, smiling. I flipped the page once again, Ryan waving in the bus that was supposed to leave for DC. My hands brushed against the page, admiring it.

I flipped the page again, Glenn was holding Maggie's stomach the both of them kissing each other, I drew that only two weeks ago.

I flipped the page again, a face portrait of Carl, that was complete. His smile wide. My cheeks burned crimson, "Do you want it?" I asked, looking up to him. Carl's lips pursed together, he was in thought, "Do you want me to take it?" Carl looked at the picture.

I tore the drawing out of the my sketchbook, handing it to him. He took it, placing it in his back pocket. I put my sketchbook and pencils in my duffel bag. I went to Ryan's room, placing a few of his shirts and a jacket of his in my duffel. I looked at the blue blanket that rested on his bed, gripping at the fabric. It was his blue blanket, the one he always had. The one my father gifted him on his seventeenth birthday, along with his weapon. 

I took a deep breath, his room still smelled like him, his room will always smell like him. Carl placed his hand on my shoulder, I turned my head back, my eyes meeting his, "Let's go home." 

Home? Home felt foreign to my mind, I thought home was here maybe somewhere else. Maybe the church, or the car. No. 

"Home." I echoed, Carl nodded his head, looking down, fumbling with his hands. I shook my head, "I don't know what that is, not anymore."

"Home can be a person." Carl murmured, his cheeks turning pink. "How?" My lips pursed together, Carl gripped my hands, my body turning towards his, "Whenever I am with you, I'm at home."

My cheeks heated up once again, I probably looked like a tomato. I nodded my head, his eye looking into mine. "We should get out of here," I whispered. "Let's go."