CHAPTER SEVEN ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀try. because this is a simple storm.
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⠀After all these years, Isiah started to lose his faith in any God; somehow, he still believed he was there — just not for Isiah himself. He would have to find someone else because God had his priorities on something else, rather than the disabled young man.
⠀He was angry. He felt betrayed. And he also felt foolish, and blind. He should have known that his prayers never counted as conversations.
⠀Things would make him question his loss of faith, including the collection of bottled water displaying themselves in front of the group.
⠀His mouth felt immensely more dry as he watched the liquid steadily swirl. And that gave him a clue that whoever put them there, wasn't long gone.
⠀He lifted his view, looking into the trees. But every shadow, and dip in the earth made him think that someone was there — for all time. He rubbed away the sweat in his eyes, his vision blurred before Daryl made his way through the brush, almost making Isiah step back in shock.
⠀His right leg lifted to move backwards, but that action made him stumble. He hissed, his skull tightening when cursed words nearly decided to break forth.
⠀Everyone looked to him, including his sister, who's expression hadn't changed. Rick rose his hand, and Daryl clenched his fist.
⠀Isiah gave away his pain but held his mouth tightly. Don't touch me, his eyes said.
⠀Stay away... I don't need it.
⠀The lonely august born boy kept his shackles invisible as he had done for years, and this new world wasn't going to change it. Nothing would go back to the way it was, and all they could hang onto was their beliefs and horrifying weaknesses.
⠀Instead of inquiring on Isiah's pain, gave the news to Daryl. Rick offered him the piece of paper they'd all observed individually.
⠀"From a friend," it said, in black curved capitals. Even by the state of the paper, someone was out there, and they had everything.
⠀Daryl tossed the paper downwards.
⠀"What else are we gonna do?" Isiah looked to his left, to Tara who steadily bounced on her feet, gun readily placed in her arms. The boy looked away, tired of this.
⠀He wanted to just... he wanted the day to be over. And these questions with no possible answer strung the hours and daylight onwards.
⠀"Not this," Rick assured, looking towards the trees. "We don't know who left it."
⠀The mute simply watched the struggle. The debate on this stranger's intentions displayed in mere silence. He wasn't going to give a glance of suggestion. He didn't want to be possibly responsible for a future consequence.
