Unexpected Events

-go getters 7.05 (part two)-

I grabbed the keys from Jesus, who did not expect it, "Fuck all of you." I turned around and left after that.

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Enid was lying when she said that driving wasn't basically as easy as stepping on the pedal.

In my rage of just walking out back at hilltop I had stupidly left the backpack, which included my cassette. Thankfully this car had a good collection of CDs, one of which was Eminem's 'curtain call', another being 'the Eminem Show' and a bunch of other albums by Eminem. Safe to say I would've loved whoever owned the car.

I took multiple detours on the drive back. I didn't want to go back, and I was really close to just leaving completely, but I wasn't stupid enough to. If I was going to leave, I would take a bunch food, water, and weapons, plus gas for the car.

So, this time I was just avoiding it. Maybe next time I wouldn't though.

Sometimes I didn't think into things enough, this was one of those times. The headlights on the car were too dim to drive back to Alexandria on the pitch-black roads. Nighttime was the least safe as well in this world. Never know what is lurking in the shadows.

I parked the car on the side of the road. The only thing that sucked about this was that I had to turn off the car, heat included. I climbed into the backseat and laid across it, using it as a temporary bed, my jacket a temporary blanket.

It wasn't the best, but it worked well enough for the night.

I was still pissed at Maggie. I came clean to her just to get kicked out still. I hadn't even ever seen her talk to Enid, none of them matter-o-factly. It was stupid, just adding to my reasons of why to never open up to people. Doesn't do anything but make you feel vulnerable and weird.

It was going to be a long night with the coldness, quietness, and loneliness of the car. I couldn't help but think back to nights with him, with Carl. I missed him so much, and I was starting to doubt my decision, was this really protecting him? Or was I just scared for the day he would leave me, the day he realizes I'm not as good as someone else. Or he would realize he couldn't deal with my issues. But maybe he wouldn't leave. Maybe I just ruined a relationship that could've been something great, that was already great.

I couldn't sleep that night. My brain was up with more and more thoughts by the minute. I really wish I had something to drown it all out right about now.

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Numbness was a typical part of grief and healing, only it felt like a lot more grief than healing.

I felt so empty, which wasn't typical for me to wake up immediately feeling so. I felt like a puppet, I couldn't get up. Maybe this was a consequence of not taking my meds for the last week.

The car wouldn't start. The engine just sputtered. Just fucking great.

I grabbed anything I cared for from the backseat, putting on my jacket before I got out. The morning air was cold, humid, and foggy. It looked like your set up for a horror movie. As long as I wasn't the surviving character, I wouldn't mind it.

I pulled out my knife just in case, the fog was so bad that I was barely twenty feet from where the car was, and it wasn't visible anymore. I continued forward. I had no clue where I was and what direction I was supposed to be going in order to get back. I just had to wing it like everything else in life.

Crows cawed disturbingly in the distance. An eerie feeling became very known, although nothing happened even minutes after the feeling appeared. I was jumpy to any sound, maybe it was due to not sleeping almost at all throughout the night. I continued to follow the tire tracks on the road.

Thank God for the tracks. Turns out those were from Enid's shitty driving. They lead me right to the gate, a rush of some good feeling going through me but leaving quickly, my body fighting off the emotion.

I walked up to the gate looking like a walker. I was dirty and tired; I was surprised I didn't get shot by whoever was on patrol.

"Can I come in?" I asked before looking up to the person standing there.

I was met with those eyes, Carl looked back down at me.

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"Where have you been?" Rick asked. I was being practically interrogated at the dining table.

"I was at hilltop until I got kicked out. Then I spent all fucking day trying to get back here. Really I deserve a reward for how god damn shitty my life has been the last few weeks." I joked but my voice stayed the same, I almost sounded serious, but really, I was emotion-dead. "So," I tapped the wooden table with my fingers, "where have you been Rick?"

"Don't start with me. I get it, you've had a hard couple of weeks, but you cannot just run off like that." He scolded. I saw a glimpse of Carl and Judith watching from the doorway.

"Why, what are you gonna do? Kill me? I'd probably thank you." I replied.

"Go upstairs. We'll talk when you're sober." Rick said, getting up angrily.

"I am sober," I said watching as he walked away, "just really fucking tired." I mumbled, looking at my hand.

Carl walked in now, "I'm glad your safe and all, but you don't need to be like that."

"Be like what? Me? Myself?"

"You left your meds here... I know you weren't taking them before that..."

"Oh jesus christ about the fucking meds!" I yelled, luckily Rick had taken Judy on his way out. I stood up slamming my chair into the table, "everything I do now is about those stupid little things! I can't have any emotion without being asked if I'm still taking them!" I was yelling at him, but not because of him. I felt tears in my eyes as I calmed down, "I'm me, don't you people get that?"

He sighed, looking totally beat but not knowing what to do now.

The numbness left for a minute, letting me feel this pain. I was standing alone, only a few feet from Carl, "can you just hold me?" I questioned, giving him permission to do exactly what I asked.

It felt comforting, I needed this back.

"Maggie didn't let me stay even after I told her everything." I admitted, I knew I said I couldn't tell people things, but Carl was completely out of that statement. He was the only person I trusted.

"You told her about it?" He asked softly, just trying to understand instead of wanting to know for himself.

"She saw me- oh god." I breathed out, tensing up.

Carl could feel it, "you don't have to say anything."

"I did something I shouldn't have," I mumbled into his chest, feeling his gray shirt get wet from another tear, "I hurt myself... on purpose."

I could feel the pain in his breath. When did I turn into this? I remember wondering how someone could be so upset they felt the need to hurt themself after Beth tried to kill herself. I get it now; oh, I really fucking get it.

"Are you okay right now?" He asked.

"Please don't leave me." I ignored the question, somewhat answering it with that.

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i still have no clue where this story is going 👍 i'm just making stuff up as i write