Chapter 5

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Chapter 5 

{ Three Weeks Later }

Kill me. Please, someone end my life. I’m beggin’. 

Over the last two weeks, I haven’t been able ta’ stop indulgin’ myself in somethin’ that I really shouldn’t be doin’. Long story short, I’ve developed a little thing fer Rick Grimes and I don’t know how ta’ make it go away. 

I didn’t really notice my feelin’s at first. I just dismissed the little dip my stomach would do when Rick talked directly to me or looked at me, and I even managed ta’ tell myself that I didn’t kinda blush when Rick smiled at me fer somthin’ funny I’d said, but when I realized what all those things meant, I nearly started beatin’ my head against the wall right then and there late last week in my cell. 

It ain’t really the fact that I have feelin’s fer somebody so much as it’s the fact that it’s Rick. I don’t mind that he has kids, and I don’t mind that he’s been married before and that his wife died, and I don’t even care that he still wears his wedding ring, which he has every right ta’ do, even if his marriage was in shambles when she was pregnant with Judith (Maggie likes ta’ gossip, I found out.); it’s the fact that I’ll never have a chance with him. He’s focused on his kids, not on women, and besides that, we have a major age difference. I’m about twenty-three, Rick is about forty- that’s seventeen years difference, and there’s no way he wouldn’t see me as nothin’ but a young girl and not a dateable woman. I’ve always liked an older man, but this is my biggest age gap so far. 

But, even though he ain’t gonna ever be interested in me, it don’t mean I can’t look at him. I mean come on- he’s good lookin’. Blue eyes, dark hair, built solid… a good lookin’ guy and just my type.

 I don’t think we’d be a bad couple together. I mean, we’re both smart, we have the same sense of humor-

“Scarlett.” Caleb’s voice shakes me right outta my thoughts with a jolt.

“Sorry, I spaced out. What’s wrong?” I turn and look at Caleb, and I notice that he isn’t alone. A little girl, maybe ten with honey blonde hair, a round face, and brown eyes stands with him, peerin’ at me curiously.  She’s cradlin’ a hand, palm up, and both my maternal and nurse instincts kick in. 

“She cut her hand with a knife. She doesn’t need stitches but I think you should wrap it up to be safe.” 

I smile at Caleb gesture fer him ta’ leave. “I got her. You get some lunch.” 

“Thanks.” Caleb smiles at the little girl and me and then ducks out the door, leavin’ me alone with her.

“I’m Scarlett,” I say, steppin’ closer to her and smilin’ so she isn’t scared. In my experience, kids aren’t always the calmest when left alone with a medical professional, even when they’re older.

“I’m Mika.” She’s a quiet little thing, but she still smiles at me like she ain’t afraid. 

“Nice ta’ meetcha’, Mika. Let’s clean up that hand.”

Mika sits down at the little table we have set up off to the side of the infirmary and waits patiently while I pull cotton balls, rubbin’ alcohol, and some bandages from the medical cabinet.

I sit down across from the little girl and take her hand gently. There’s a neat cut right on the heel of her hand, somethin’ you would get from your hand slippin’ whie you’re cuttin’ somethin’. 

“This is gonna sting,” I warn, right before I start dabbin’ at the cut with an alcohol-soaked cotton ball. Mika recoils on the first dab, but stills after and lets me keep workin’. “How’d ya’ manage ta’ do this to yourself, honey?” 

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