Chapter 6- Sleep is for the weak

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I'm freezing. Why is it so damn cold? It's like July or something. And summers in Georgia are usually like Satans armpits. Not like snowmans balls. But then again, we have no more meteorologists any more. Wait. What about the people in space on those ship satellite whatever they're called things? Hah. Well, good for them. They'll stay there. Anyways back to earth.

I slowly pry my eyes and look around the small tent. There's something off. Not that I can actually see anything... But it's just a feeling. Similar to what I had with Glenn. I slowly sit up with a tired groan and search for one of the black flashlights. My hand clasps around it and I switch it on, pointing it at the netting of the black tent.

There's a figure. A moaning and stumbling figure. A walker. My breath catches in my throat and my heart starts to run a marathon for the third fucking time today. Holly Shit... I reach over and frantically shake Daryl to wake him up. I'm not dying of a walker bite, like I said before.

He grunts and turns towards me. He seems to be a light sleeper too... "The hell girl?" He groans, attracting the attention of the walker who has just began to sniff the air. "Daryl. Walker." I whisper in a shaky voice, pointing to the outline of the not-so-dead corpse. I guess I could handle it on my own, but I don't want to take any unnecessary risks.

He looks at the dead thing and jumps out of his sleeping bag, grabbing his crossbow before I can even get my thoughts together. He's prepared for everything, I guess. Why can't he just use a knife? Geez. He crouches down and unzips the tent, pouncing into action like a tiger. I sit there, paralysed. I know I should help, but I can't seem to move...

"Diana" Daryl whisper-shouts and that gets me going. I stand up and slip my knife into my boot, holding the sharp machete tightly in my hand. The grunting outside has stopped. I climb out of the tent and look around to see Daryl cleaning a bolt that must have 'killed' the walker. The moon's out, providing a decent amount of light so I can see a little clearly. No point in getting flashlights because that could grab the attention of other walkers possibly around or the group.

"Let's drag it into the woods" I choke out and walk towards the walker which happens to be a female. She could be in her thirties, with brown hair and a sundress. He looks at my face, as if studying if I was shiting him or not. Why would I? I don't really want it around me and the group would freak if they saw. So yeah, I'm not dumb. I'm actually quite smart. Now that's a little bit narcissistic.

He sets the bolt and crossbow down, walking towards me and the stinking corpse. I shove my machete into my belt and bend down, picking up the walkers feet and start to drag her into the woods by myself before Daryl actually helps me. The sooner it's out of my sight, the better.

We drag it a few feet into the woods, not really feeling safe enough to go further. Maybe this is why he wanted to stay so far away. To protect the group.

It might actually mask our scent. I doubt it though. It's a bit too far from the tent. I drop the corpse onto the damp grass and look at my black watch. Assuming it still tells the right time, it's 4:34am.

"That thing work?" Daryl asks, pointing to my watch. Observant.

I look up and grin, shrugging my shoulders in the process. "I hope so. And if it did, it would be 4:35am" he nods and walks towards his crossbow, picking it up and swinging it onto his back. Even in the faint moonlight, his muscles are visible. I really need to stop this. It's ridiculous first grade shit.

"I'm goin' on a hunt. Take my mind off this shit." he calls out to me quietly. He turns around and looks at my face. For a long time. Longer that I'd like. Seriously, what is his problem? But I can't lie about liking the slight attention he's giving me.

He walks past me and I nod. I would go with him, but I'm lacking sleep and I know I wouldn't be any help anyway. "Be careful!" I call to him quietly and set off towards the house. What am I gonna do? Nothing. I just feel like talking to Glenn. He might be sleeping though. I just feel like being near someone that actually TALKS. Screw sleep. Sleep is for the weak.

I silently open the front door and step inside, closing it behind me as quietly as possible. There's no need to wake up others. "May I help you?" A soft southern accent says. I spin around and find a blonde girl, about 16, smiling at me. Her hair's mid-length and her clothes consist of a white blouse and blue jeans. She's siting on the bottom step of the wooden staircase.

"I'm Diana. I'm just here to check on my friend Glenn. Couldn't sleep" I say and smile politely. She nods and points her thin finger in the direction of Glenn's room. But her expression isn't the one of ease. It's the one of fear and anger.

"Are you okay? You can talk to me if you want." I comment in concern and move to sit beside her on the stairs. This ain't my business for shit, but when psychology instincts kick in, they're hard to ignore. She sighs and looks down a her twisted fingers. She contemplates my offer for a few seconds before giving in.

"It's my boyfriend Jimmy... He wants to... But I don't and he keep urging me to..." Her voice cracks and a quiet sob escapes her.

Oh god no. I put an arm around her shoulders and hug her close. I don't even know her damn name but righ now I don't give a shit. She sets her head on my chest and sobs quietly. Poor girl.

"Oh honey. It's okay. Don't do anything you don't want to. Make sure he knows that. Your virginity's precious. Don't put it to waste. And if he's any bother, tell me. I'll kick his ass back down to where he belongs." I whisper and soothe her soft hair. No girl or guy should be pressured into sex. It's wrong. Do it whenever you want to. Just make sure you're not, well , pressured.

She nods and wipes her blue eyes, sitting up. "Thank you. I'm Beth by the way" she manages a weak smile and stands up, walking up the stairs into what I assume is her room.

Well, not what I was expecting to happen at 4 in the morning. But I've had days like this before. A pacient of mine would call me at random hours of the night, in tears and saying that they dont want to live anymore or asking if we could meet up because they're not handling it well. But it's been a while since that happened last.

I stand up and walk to Glenn's room, shutting the door silently behind me and shake my head to get the Beth incident out. Right now, I just want to talk to Glenn. I'll help the girl as much as I can tomorrow.

"Can I help you?" A southern voice asks. What's up with all these southern accents and asking if I need help? I spin around and see Maggie, the girl I rode the horse with yesterday, sitting beside Glenn, reading a book. Why is she here? Are they...

"Umm, just came to check on Glenn. I was also wanting to ask if I could borrow a book from that bookshelf." I mutter, pointing to the old bookshelf across the room, stacked with books. She smiles kindly and nods. Maybe Maggie isn't bad. Maybe she's kind and selfless. I'll have to get to know her better.

I walk towards the tattered books and scan them. Crappy romance novels, Criminal shit and so on. But one book catches my attention. 'Gone' by Michael Grant. I remember reading it before the world sort of spiralled down. It was one of my favourite books. Sci-fi sort of and very captivating. Shame that they don't have the other five books in here.

I take it out of the bookshelf and smile at the sleeping Glenn. "Bye and thanks" I mutter wih a fake smile and dissapear out of the room as fast as I can. That was awkward. But Glenn's getting some.

(A/N) What's up guys? This was quite a short chapter because I was just anxious to post it. Comment, fave and share this story with your friends if you want! It would make my day! Did anyone else see the first episode of season 5 Walking Dead? What were your thoughts on it? I loved it!🔥

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