"Michaela, you need to lay down." Denise argued with me as she tired to force me to lay down on a hospital bed."
"I said I'm fine!" I snapped.
"You need oxygen, you inhaled too much smoke."
"No, what ya need to do is check on Maggie and leave me alone."
"I already checked on Maggie, Carol, too. Just let me give you some oxygen."
"I don't need oxygen or medicine."
"Michaela-"
"DENISE!" I snarled. "As ya can tell, it's been a rough twenty four hours for me." I motioned to the dried blood on my hands, clothes, and face, and the cut along the top of my head. "I just wanna go home and forget this shit ever happened. Can I do that?"
"I still say you need oxygen."
"Well, that's too bad, because I'm refusin' medical treatment. You can give me oxygen when I'm unconscious, but until then, I'll be at home takin 'care of some shit." I stood up from the bed and walked over to the desk to gather my things.
"Michaela?" I looked over my shoulder at Denise. "I- I heard that you flushed your pills... and then you freaked out at the Hilltop... and cut a woman's face off. I'm just worried about you." I instantly scoffed and resumed to placing my knife and equipment in their designated places.
"Don't be."
"Can you at least tell me how you're doing with your withdrawals?"
"I'll manage. Still see The Governor, but the truth is, I never stopped. The medicine didn't work, I lied. So, I stopped takin' it. But ya know what? That's okay, because a dead guy gave me some partin' words of wisdom."
"Michaela, do you really think it's a good idea to listen to a hallucination?" Denise asked, her voice filled with concern.
"Okay, for one, it wasn't a hallucination, it was a dream. Two, he hasn't done me wrong yet. I trusted 'em when he was alive, and I'll trust 'em when he's dead. And three, whoever I talk to, dead or alive, is no longer your concern." I slung my quiver and bow over my back and stormed out of the infirmary before Denise had a chance to respond. I know she was just trying to be a good friend, but I got a lot on my plate right now, like what to do about my situation with Daryl. I couldn't shake Daryl from my mind. He was still pissed at me. Merle said he loves me, but even I knew that was the biggest crock of shit I've ever heard.
"You're right not to believe Merle." The Governor smiled as he walked beside me. "Daryl doesn't love you. He wasn't even worried about ya, all he cared about was his stupid motorcycle. He didn't care if ya lived or died. You're better off without 'em."
"Ya know what-"
"Michaela?" Aaron's voice jerked me from my thoughts.
"Hey." I faked a smile.
"How are you feeling?"
"Fine." I tried to lie, but Aaron didn't look convinced. I let out a sigh of defeat. "I'm sorry, I just got a lot on my mind."
"You wanna talk about it?"
"Nah, I think I'll be alright." An awkward silence fell between us. "Thank you. Back at the RV... I really needed that."
"It was no problem. I'd do anything for you. You know that." I gently smiled. "Daryl's in the garage if you want to talk to him."
"No, it's best he doesn't know until I'm done."
YOU ARE READING
Surviving Alexandria (BOOK THREE IN THE SURVIVING THE WALKING DEAD SERIES)
Fanfiction*FOLLOWS ALONG WITH THE SHOW* Michaela's group has finally reached Alexandria, and everyone is on edge. Uncertain about their new surroundings, they struggle to get accustomed to their new home. When the tensions finally settle, it's the dream home...
