the real people| TWD

twenty-three

He abandoned him.

Red, hot, anger boiled inside him; fueling him with enough energy to crawl towards him— despite the excruciating pain.

He wound up his fist and slammed it across Daryl's face.

His head hit the sand below him.

Richard balled the man's shirt between his fists and lifted him up before slamming him back down into the stone he leant against.

"You left me!", Richard wound up his fist again before throwing another punch across his face. "You fucking left me!".

He wound up his fist— but stopped.

A rustling sound caught his attention. He lent back onto his good leg, watching intently as a walker emerged from the bushes. The left side of its face was missing, his jaw broken; it wore a backpack on its back.

The walkers eyes landed on the two men.

It trudged towards them; it's feet dragging in the sand. It tripped, face planting on the ground. Richard sighed, picking up the stone he had thrown at the man and brought himself to his feet.

He limped over, using his good leg to kick it back down as it tried to get up. His broken leg buckled beneath him, causing him to fall to his knees besides it.

Tears brimmed his eyes as he rose the stone, bringing it back down on the walkers head; bashing its skull in. He continued to slam the stone into its softened head, not stopping until it was completely bashed in. Blood and brain matter splashed up at him with each blow.

By the end, he was covered in it.

Richard wiped the blood and tears from his face; dropping the bloody rock. He sobbed quietly, unzipping the corpses backpack and rummaged through it.

Wallet, keys, water, knife.

Richard forced himself back to his feet and trudged over towards the redneck man laying on the ground. His eyes were still open, his face bruised and bloody. His gaze followed the boy; staring at him as he knelt down besides him and unscrewed the cap on the water bottle. "I'm sorry".

The boy didn't respond, placing his hand on the back of Daryl's neck and lifted him up; bringing the water to his dry lips.

Daryl took a couple sips before letting his head fall back; his eyes closed.

Richard screwed the lid back on the cap and sighed, "I know".

Micheal Pelletier
The Farm

The sun was beginning to set.

Micheal limped towards the screen door, his legs sore and his foot ached. He rubbed his face to try and rid it from any blood or dirt.

He was furious; he couldn't understand how Sophia could be so selfish and reckless. The fact Carl took a bullet searching for her, Micheal had to murder someone due to her disappearance. Everyday people were putting their lives at risk— for no reason.

He couldn't tell them either; he just had to sit back and watch as people risked everything for her— for them.

Otis lost his life, Micheal lost his innocence, and Carl Grimes almost died; the thought made his heart sink. If Carl were to have died that day, he doesn't think he'd ever be able to forgive Sophia.