𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫 | 𝘙𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘎𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴

The what?

Lori died two months ago.

It has been extremely hard.

The already vast prison feels even emptier and colder now without Lori and T-Dog. We found out that when T-Dog and Carol tried to find Lori, they got swamped by walkers and he ended up sacrificing himself to save her. Carol is completely torn up about it, being the one he saved. He told her it was to make sure Sophia has her mom with her.

And while Judith is a sweet girl and I've loved caring for her these past months, watching Rick slowly get worse as the days pass is pure torture. Seeing him send his beautiful baby resentful looks as if he can't help blaming her for his wife's death just breaks my heart.

I thought he was in a bad place when we first found the prison, but now? He's a ghost of the man I knew. What's the most worrying is that he's not sad anymore, he's angry. So furious and explosive that it's impossible to try to reason with him. Just a few weeks ago he had what seemed to be some sort of nervous breakdown when a group of new people showed up. They actually seemed like great people but he scared them away, screaming at them like a lunatic.

Despite the concern I feel for Rick, my own guilt has been suffocating. I am the only person here perfectly qualified to operate on a breached birth. The only person who could have saved both Judith and Lori. I spent years in OB, operating on countless births, C-sections, etc. I could've helped her. But I went with Rick to stop the goddamn alarms. Anyone could have gone instead. But I went. The only person who could have prevented this.

The only person who could have given a mother and wife back to her family. Every day I wholeheartedly loathe myself for not being there. If I had been, I could have avoided T-Dog and Carol looking for her themselves and T-Dog would still be with us. My heart clenches with regret and I sigh.

Judith cries in her makeshift crib in my cell, her limbs wriggling around. It's her gurgling hungry cry. "Hey honey, come 'ere," I murmur softly, collecting the small baby girl in my arms and taking her to her formula station on the other side of the cell.

Trying to get her to drink formula from day one was nearly impossible. I was so worried for a day or so that she would just die because she didn't have a breast or a mother to develop normally.

But, she's much stronger than I thought. She eventually gave in and has never had an issue eating since. She's the one good thing keeping me together. She's only a couple of months old but her personality is so bright already.

"There's a good girl," I whisper as she drinks hungrily from the bottle, her adorable little hands gripping at the sides of the plastic.

"She's eating again?" Carl asks from the doorway, making me jump, looking over at him, nodding with a slight smile.

"She's a growing baby, she's going to need to eat a lot," I explain.

He nods, watching his little sister for a moment. "Do you want to hold her?" I offer, but Carl shakes his head. He cares a lot for her but he's a little distant these days and I don't blame him. I just worry. I feel like that's all I do these days. Worry about the people I love.

"No worries. Hey, do you think you could grab me another pack of formula? I need to prep her next bottle," I ask, and Carl nods, seeming happy to have a job.

He's like his dad in that way. Rick has been non-stop working on clearing the prison, clearly burying himself in the work. He disappears for hours at a time, coming back with a scribbled map of where he went, walker blood spattered all over him.

Then he eats, sleeps (never enough), goes out, and repeats.

Every day.

I'm worried about him. My days consist of overwhelming worry for Rick and Carl, creeping guilt, caring for Judith, worrying some more, and deeply regretting my choices from months ago.