❛ YOU PROMISED. ❜
09. Don't Leave Me
SEASON 02 EPISODE 03
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Is there a way to describe the emotions that are wedged into my brain? Is there a way to figure out how I feel without starting to cry? So far, it seems impossible. I never felt so alone, so left out and angry. I've always been indifferent and impassive child; I didn't give much thought to my emotions, nor care enough about them, but now.. I write, rocking back and forth on the porch chair. I care. I thought it was time to be strong, brave, more independent and mature, more than any other kids my age, but I'm not. On the inside I'm still just a kid, a scared kid that needs a little care and uplifting.
A car stopped in front of the house, two figures coming out of it and approaching the Greene house slowly and cautiously. I shut my journal and crossed my legs, narrowing my eyes in the dark distance with a deep frown on my lips. It was when they got closer that I recognized him— no I didn't move from my spot and I wasn't going to.
"So do we... ring the bell?" Glenn asks, looking to the obviously sickly man beside him. "I mean it looks like people live here."
"We're past this kind of stuff, aren't we?" T-Dog responded, taking steps up the porch stairs with Glenn following behind him. "Having to be considerate."
"Did you close the gate up the road when you drove in?" Maggie's voice questions, and it made me shrink in my spot even more.
"Uh, hi." Glenn says. "Yes, we closed it. Did the latch and everything. Hello. Nice to see you again. We, uh, met before briefly."
"Look, we came to help." T-Dog interrupted the tension Glenn was causing. "Is there anything we can do?" He asks with a grunt following. "It's not a bite. I cut myself pretty bad though."
"We'll have it looked at." Maggie tells him, her figure coming into my view which made me fall back into the wall even more. "I'll tell them you're here."
"We have, uh, some painkillers and antibiotics. I already have him so if Carl needs any."
"Come on inside. I'll make you something to eat." Maggie opened the front door, letting the injured man inside but stopping Glenn from walking any further. "There's someone waiting for you on the other side of the porch."
I frown, crossing my arms and huffing as the sound of his shoes planting against the wood echoes throughout my right ear. His shadow catching my eyes causes an annoyed look to spread across my face. I don't want to see him.
"Kendall." He kneeled before wrapping his arms around me; an embrace I don't return. "I thought you were.. you're okay!"
"I don't understand why you care. It's not like you guys were looking for me." I stand from the chair ultimately shaking from his grip. "I obviously wasn't a priority."
"Of course you were..." Glenn murmured, taking his hat off in stress. "It's just—"
"You weren't looking for me and that's all I needed to know." I cut him off, refusing to listen to him find excuses on why they didn't search for me. "I thought you were my best friend.." I scoff, "You were supposed to be. I don't forgive you and I never will."
"Kendall." Glenn calls my name, but I wasn't ready to listen. I hardly spare him a glance as I brush past him, stomping down the stairs and finding a spot on the ground. I lean against the brick built into the porch, my chin up and eyes searching the dark sky.
I deserve care and uplifting. I deserve a person who would search the world, high and low, to find me. I open my journal, continuing to write. Glenn is that person, or will be, or can be but forgiving him for being absent in searching for me... I cannot.
I pause my writing, realizing just how much I have been procrastinating when it comes to this.
It's supposed to be a comfort thing, something I can entrust to release all the emotions I keep in because I'm too scared to say them out loud. It's relaxing now, sitting by myself and jotting down my emotions— until the screen door opens and the sound of footsteps grow closer. It ruins my moment alone.
I press further against the porch, hoping the people above me couldn't see me.
Lori and Rick. Lori came outside first, leaning against the railing above me; Rick follows her out and does the same.
Her voice quivers as she speaks, "Maybe this isn't a world for children anymore."
"Yeah, well, we have a child." Rick tells her, "Carl is here in this world now."
"Maybe he shouldn't be." Lori says, forcing the words out; almost regretting what she said, but it doesn't matter because the words already left her lips. "Maybe this is how it's supposed to be."
A long pause falls between them, me as well, my heart thundering against my chest. During the silence, I take this as a chance to leave, to rush back inside and sit with my unconscious friend. I don't make an effort to be silent while doing so, glaring at his parents as they stare at me in shock.
It isn't an option, it can't be.
As his hand places warmth in mine thoughts of letting him die like this, or dying at all, run out of my mind. I need him to survive this, for him to live as long as life allows him. It's what Carl deserves— a second chance.
He's sweating, hard, and his skin is searingly hot; it drenches my hand with the salty liquid when I touch his forehead. It didn't bother me, not even a little, I just grab his hand and hold onto him tight. After my blurring eyes glance across his disheveled figure, I press my head against our joined hands and sigh. In a weird way it brought me comfort; and I was hoping this was giving him the same kind of comfort.
"If you don't die we can talk about my dad, like you always wanted to..."
A low groan whistles within the room, causing me to jump up from my spot and find where it was coming from. The Grimes boy shuffled in his spot, huffing and moaning in pain. "Is that a promise?" I breathe out, shaking my head with tears blurring my vision. I almost answer him but he spoke over me, "Where am I?" He asks, looking around the room in panic
"Hey, little man." Rick enters the room with Lori following close behind, placing a hand on his son's head while Lori takes his unoccupied hand. "That's Hershel." He points to the farmer with his eyes, "We're in his house. You had an accident, alright?"
"It hurts... a lot." He gasps tilting his head just a bit to look down at his wound.
"I know baby, I know." Lori says.
"You should've seen it." Carl smiles, his grip on my hand tightening a bit.
"What?"
"The deer. It was so pretty, mom. It was so close. I've never been..." Carl trails off, staring into space and leaving his sentence unfinished. I blink in confusion as the smile on his lips falls and he stills.
"Carl..." I exhale slowly releasing his hand and placing it on his arm, rubbing gently. I gasp loudly as he begins to shake, grunting in pain. It doesn't take Hershel long to come to my side and pull me away from the boy, turning him on his side.
"Don't. It's a seizure." Hershel tells us, swatting the Grimes' hands away. "If you hold him down, you could hurt him."
"You can't stop it?" Lori questioned frantically.
"He has to just go through it." The farmer answers, making the sinking feeling inside me worse.
I shrink away, tucking myself into a corner and pulling my knees to my chest before wrapping my arms around them. I can't leave his side, but I can't watch as he writhes and wriggles in pain. A deep breath leaves my lips when he stops, I crawl away from the corner and toward Carl gradually, holding his hand once more. I blink at his slumped body, shutting my eyes and sitting my head against the bed.
As I do so, Hershel leans forward to open his eyes and check his pulse.
"His brain isn't getting enough blood." The farmer says, "His pressure is bottoming. He needs another transfusion."
"Okay, I'm ready." Rick gestures to himself, ready to give blood to his son.
Hershel shook his head, sighing lightly. "If I take anymore out of you your body could shut down. You can could go into a coma. Or cardiac arrest."
"You're wasting time." Rick scoffs, rolling up his sleeve and showing off his already wrapped arm, never once taking his eyes off his son.
I slip out of the bedroom when it all begins to overwhelm me. And once outside the room, I am met with a sharp pair of eyes watching me carefully. I consider going back into the room, but my feet were stuck to the ground; his stare kept me here.
A beat of a second goes by of us just staring at each other, no words being shared between us. As his mouth opens to speak I turn away from him and rush toward the couch, looking in my journal.
Breathe, one, two, three. Breathe, one, two, three. Breathe, one, two three.
Jamie is gone. Mom is gone. It took me until now to realize that. There were a few moments where I would turn to look at nothing to say something to them, but it just reminds me that they were dead.. both in Downtown Atlanta— rotting away. I didn't want to lose my first and only friend; the woman that pushed me out of my shell, my comfort zone by asking me many questions that sometimes made me uncomfortable. My nanny was my friend. Mom was my.. mom. I still need them, want them.
I purse my lips, blinking uncontrollably while attempting to control my irregular breathing. I sigh before shoving my pencil in the crack of my journal and shutting it, trying to catch my breath. It wasn't helping, nothing was helping.
All that's on my mind is my friend; he was on the verge of death and his mother had no hope for him.
It takes me more than a minute to realize how hard I was breathing; how heavy, deep, ragged. It's almost impossible to catch a breath, which forces me to slap a hand over my heart before slamming my journal on the table and rushing out of the Greene house. My throat burns with the need of air, a wheeze coming out with my gasping.
It only worsens, especially when the blinding lights of cars burn my eyes; my breathe grows heavier and my throat thickens, as if it was closing in on me and expelling all the oxygen from my body.
"Kendall." A voice calls for me, their hand grasping my shoulder shortly after. Before I could say anything, my face is deep in their chest. "Just listen to my heart, okay? Listen." Glenn; I can recognize his smell, his voice.
He places a hand on my back, smoothing out my shirt; my ear presses against his chest, listening to his racing heart as tears cloud my vision. As soon as I catch my breath it was gone again, lost in sobs. My arm wrap around him, my hands touching and squeezing him as I wail.
"I... I don't forgive you." I spat but it's jumbled in my sobs, almost impossible to understand. "But don't die, please, don't leave me."
"It's okay." He breathes out a chuckle, "I'm not going anywhere." Glenn pats my back softly, leading me back into the house.
I didn't know where he was taking me, I wasn't really paying attention, but when my butt is sat on something soft I knew we were in the living room. Glenn wraps a throw blanket around my person, his thumb swiping away the stray tears from my cheeks. It doesn't take long for me to grow tired; a long, deep yawn traveling up my throat and pushing past my lips. I fall back on the couch, taking his hand and squeezing while yawning again.
"Don't leave me."
my apologies guys, I've been busy trying to find a new job and working at my lame ass job now. thank you for reading & don't forget to vote!
edit: just going through and correcting a few things, sorry guys!