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Chapter 62

"Ye didn't fuckin' try everything. If ye tried everything he would be alive right now!" Daryl yelled, before throwing the walkie-talkie in the backseat.

He got out of the truck before slamming the door.

Finally everything hit me and my body began shaking.

Tears stung my eyes as my mind scanned all of the memories I had with Rick.

He can't be dead, he can't.

I held my head in my hands with tears sliding down my cheeks.

"Sam, are you there?" I heard Tara's voice ring through the walkie-talkie.

I ignored her, my anxiety rising as I continued to think about everything.

"Sam, I'm alone. You can talk to me." Tara continued.

I reached in the backseat before holding the walkie-talkie in my hand.

"He wanted me to tell you that he loved you more than anything," Tara added, her voice cracking.

I let out a sob before holding a hand to my mouth.

"How's Carl?" I asked, trying to control myself.

"He's with me, and he's taking it better than I thought. I'll take care of him and Judith until you get back." She replied.

"Is Daryl there?" She asked.

"I think so." I replied, letting off the button.

"Can you hand him the walkie?" She inquired.

I slowly got out of the truck, blinking through my tears.

I walked over to Daryl who was standing a few feet away with his back facing me.

"Daryl," I mumbled, holding the walkie talkie out.

He turned around before taking it from my hands.

"What?" He asked, holding the button down.

I walked back to the truck and got inside before crawling into the backseat and curling up in a ball.

After a few minutes of crying, I controlled myself before raising up once Daryl got in the truck.

"I don't wanna go back- not yet." I mumbled, my throat raw.

"We don't have to." He replied, his voice low.

I got back in the front seat and leaned my head against the head rest.

-

I landed on top of the walker before stabbing it over and over.

"Fücking bitch!" I yelled, my knife going in it's skull repeatedly.

Once I got some anger out, we went inside the house which used to be a rental cabin for vacations.

"Booze." I mumbled, walking into the room with a bar once we cleared the house.

I picked up the bottle of Jim Bean whiskey before sitting down on a bar stool.

I threw two shots back before Daryl sat beside me.

"Ye need to slow it down." Daryl mumbled, taking a swig of whatever he was drinking.

"I don't give a shit," I replied, the whiskey burning all the way down to my stomach.

-

I slid off of the bar stool, my feet hitting the ground.

"Where ye goin'?" Daryl slurred.

I was pretty much wasted- considering I drunk half of the bottle of whiskey.

I sat down on the couch, still sipping on the whiskey.

He sat down beside me, putting his drink on the table.

I cursed, spilling the alcohol on my shirt.

"We're good friends, right?" I asked, peeling my shirt off.

"Yeah." He mumbled.

"So this isn't gonna mean a thing." I slurred, straddling his hips.

"Not a thing." He slurred, his hands gripping my hips.

I brought my lips down on his, our lips tasting of alcohol.

He gently pushed me off of him before standing up and pulling me into the bedroom.

________________

o shit

hope u don't hate me

don't worry, everything will come together

he may or may not be dead so pls don't track me down and kill me

LOVE U IF YALL HATE ME ANYWAYS

I THINK THIS CHAPTER IS TOO DEPRESSING FOR #TipsWithNessa SO SEE U NEXT CHAPTER LMAO