"I may have saved her from the monsters that crawl through the dark, but she saved me from the worst monster of all. She rescued me from who I would have become without her, the monster that would have easily conquered my body."
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Reese Chambler...
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IMPATIENCE IS ONE of my greatest flaws. There is just something deeply unsettling about having to count on someone else's time. My entire childhood I watched Meghan waiting for our father to come back. She harbored so much pain in her heart as she sat, starting up the road, for she always felt it was her fault he left. If I had known at the time what she was going through, I would have done more to help her see things clearly. Right now, I feel all the hurt that Meghan once felt. Waiting for someone is a painful process.
The scariest cog in the sputtering machine of survival is the ignorance that comes with being confined to one place. Without any means of efficient communication, those who are left behind can only guess as to what is happening in the world around them. Years ago, anyone could find out anything in a matter of seconds. Messages could be sent, read, and replied to almost instantaneously. Now, I only know as much as my fellow survivors tell me, and providing me with information is not really a priority to others.
The people I have come to love are all scattered. What scares me the most is that they could already be gone and I wouldn't find out until it is too late to save them. I don't know if the plan to retaliate against the Saviors is working, I don't know if I should trust my god or worry for my friends or mourn their deaths.
And then, of course there are those that were left behind with me but still manage to disappear. I do not know where Michonne went or where Carl is.
The silence has begun to plague me once again and I can do little to stop it. I can hear the blood pumping though my body as my heart beat steadily increases. The choppy, forced breaths shoot past my lips as I attempt to keep my lungs from bursting.
A soft cooing ricochets against the shell of my ear and pulls me from my head. My eyes refocus from their glazed state to see Judith bent over her crouched knees, swirling her hands in the cool mud beneath her feet. The slimy brown mess streaks up her arms and covers her shins. She looks back at me with a childish smile as she brings her hand up to push her curls out of her face. The mud coats the strands, weighing them down and sending them right back over her forehead. She tries to push them back again, only managing to lather more mud across her skin. Her eyes grow wide as she stares at me, looking guilty of all things.
"Uh oh," She squeaks, her mouth dropping open.
I can feel the muscles in my taut face relax as a smile creeps along my lips, pulling me further out of my pensive mood. Judith sighs heavily then walks toward me slowly. She trips on the first step of the porch and catches herself on the second. Her hand slaps against the wood, leaving behind a small handprint. I meet her halfway down the stairs and scoop her up, taking the child into her house. I walk carefully into the bathroom on the second floor, looking around with wary eyes. Sometimes I swear Negan's deep laugh still echoes in this room.
A shiver is shot down my spine at the mere thought of that man, and the lingering coldness of my body still claws at me for attention long after I place my hands under the warm water running from the bathtub faucet.
