<•>Expired<•>

<•>Chapter Three<•>

I've completely stopped listening.  Not because I can't handle it but because I've already given up.  I want to die.  And I very well could in just a few short minutes. 

My vision becomes blurry and everything starts to get muzzy.  My head is spinning and I drive my long fingernails deep into the ground to sturdy myself. I come close to fainting and then the cloudiness evaporates and is replaced with crystal clear vision and I realize that Negan is choosing which skull he's going to bust. 

He saunters up to me and Carl.  Carl's facial expression softens but I glare up at him and grind my teeth together in order to keep from punching him.  He leans down and clicks his teeth.  He's so close to me that I can feel his breath. 

"I swear to god of you don't get out of my face, I will ruin yours," I say through gritted teeth. 

He smirks and then backs away. 

"Looks like we've got a little bitch.  Yeah, we have something special that we do to those.  It can wait though."

He looks at Carl.  "You have one of our guns.  No, you've got a lot of our guns." His glare returns.  "Shit kid, lighten up.  At least cry a little."

He glances over at Rick and laughs then stands up and walks over to Maggie.  "Jesus. You look shitty.  Let's just put you out of your misery right now."

He raises the bat halfway and then Glenn yells and jerks out of line.  The fucking idiot. 

"Put him back in line."

Glenn is hauled back to his spot in the line even though he is still vociferating at Negan.  Once again, the fucking idiot.  Negan laughs. 

"Alright, listen.  Don't any of ya do that again.  I will shut that shit down no exceptions.  First one's free.  It's an emotional moment, I get it."

I scrutinize all the adults expressions.  The people that are meant to protect me.  Most of them have tears in their eyes.  How the hell are they more scared than me.  I'm practically a little girl to them.  How the hell? My thoughts shove Negan out of my head once again. 

He looks over at Carl and then at Rick.  He keeps going back and forth between the two.  Like his gaze is ricochetting between their eyes.  He leers and then points Lucille between the two and then he looks at me. 

"These are your kids right? Twins? Wait no.  That ones your kid.  That's just some girl you picked up along the way, doesn't have much meaning? Might as well kill her right now then."

"Stop!"

"Hey!" He points his bat at Rick.  "Don't make me kill the two little future serial killers.  Don't make it easy on me.  I gotta pick somebody.  Everybody's at the table waiting for me to order." 

He whistles and keeps walking.  Looks like he's finally going to order. 

Moments later he's using a nursery rhyme to choose his meal.  This man is all kinds of fucked up.  Eeny, Meeny, Miny, Moe should not be a strategy for deciding on a meal he's not going to eat.  Might as well just skip to desert.

On the last word, it, I actually feel like I'm going to pass out.  He's actually doing it.  Tears are slipping from people eyes but I'm too astonished to cry.