AFRAID
chapter eight, rest in peace
A FEW HOURS HAD GONE by since the passing of Liam Peletier. Rosalie's brother, Carol's son, Daryl and Rick's best friend.
Rosalie was lost. Alone. Scared. Words couldn't explain how she was feeling.
"C'mon," Daryl grunted, his eyes puffy from
the crying as he grabbed Rosie's hand, holding it gently as he pulled her along slowly.
Rick and Carol had buried Liam, Rosalie being too scared to see his lifeless body being lowered into the ground, having to say goodbye forever.
Rosie tightened the grip on Daryl's hand, wanting to break down and cry in his arms like she did earlier on in the day.
Daryl stroked her hand with his thumb, "It's gon' be okay." He muttered gently, whispering reassurance into her ears like he did before Liam died.
She didn't believe him. He told her Liam would be okay, now he was dead.
"I ain't gon' leave ya, an' I'll be by yer side the whole time." He whispered, gently squeezing Rosalie's hand as he continued to rub it reassuringly.
"I know," Rosalie responded numbly, trying to make sense of the emotions swirling around inside her like a whirlwind. She was plagued with a sadness that would never leave her, no matter how much time had passed.
She kept her head hung low, only picking her head up slightly as the two walked — hand in hand — out of the cell block. They slowly stalked closer and closer to a tree, the tree. The tree that Liam would always sit underneath if he wasn't sitting on the roof, where he went to do everything.
Her heart leapt into her throat as tears brimmed her eyes, and instead of blinking them back like she usually did — she let them fall down her cheeks. She sniffled slightly, looking at Carol who was very obviously distraught.
Her heart ached for Carol, she lost not one, but two children. Liam had told Rosie about his sister's death. Rosalie could never imagine losing a child, never mind two. No mother should ever lose a child.
As the two reached the tree, Rosie's eyes fell on the two sticks tied together with string to form a cross. A half-stifled sob fell from her lips as she paused in her tracks.
Daryl quickly stood in front of the fragile girl, blocking her vision from the grave in front of her. She could feel her hands shaking as she clenched them, her knuckles turning white from the pressure.
She dug her nails deep into her skin, taking a deep breath as she tried to calm her shaking hands. Daryl grasped her hands, gently pulling at her fingers to release her tightly balled fist.
She looked up at him, tears in both of their eyes as they interlocked their hands, both taking another glance at each other before moving forwards, closer to the grave.
Rosalie's eyes locked on the wooden cross in front of her, causing more tears to stream down her red, tear-stained cheeks. She looked at Rick, who had tearful eyes, highlighting the blueness of them. His hand covered his mouth as he looked at the girl, the tears that filled his eyes slowly slipped down his cheeks.
"You okay?" Rick asked as she stood by his side, looking down at the exhausted girl. She blinked back her tears, swallowing thickly before responding.
"Yeah." She muttered, her voice cracking with emotion as she responded. Rick gave her a weird, sad look, almost as if to say 'Really?'. She shook her head, "No. I'm not. But I might be." Another tear slipped down her cheek, but this time she wiped it away.
"Are you?" Rosalie asked, pressing for an answer. She looked up at him with a concerned expression etched on her face.
"Will be." He replied, taking her other hand in his and rubbing his thumb across it. He crouched down to her level, tucking a stray tendril of hair behind her ear gently as he protectively wrapped his hand around the back of her neck.
He leaned forward, placing a soft kiss on her forehead as he instinctively started to stroke the back of her neck with his thumb. He shifted back, nodding to her slowly before rising to his feet.
Rosie stared down at the upturned mud that encased Liam's body beneath. The hole he had been buried in almost resembled the hole in her heart that he had left.
She took a shaky breath as she tried to push down the rest of the emotions that tried to overcome her. Despite her desperate attempts, the grief and guilt kept rising.
The now gut-wrenching memories of her and Liam flooded her mind, overtaking each sense as she continued to look down at the grave. As each memory flashed through her mind, a sob escaped from her lips.
"This was your fault, Rosalie." She heard Liam's unmistakable voice call out from in front of her. She immediately looked up, her eyes landing on Liam. He was dead, wasn't he?
"You're the reason I'm dead." He growled, and Rosie's eyes fell on his abdomen, crimson red liquid pooling from the knife that was still stuck inside of him.
"I'm dead, because of you." He raised his voice at the redhead girl, a sob escaping from her mouth. Her chest burnt with a sense of longing for the boy who had been taken away from her far too soon. Yet, here he was, blaming her for his death.
"Rosie." She couldn't breathe, she couldn't focus on the voice calling her as memories continued to infiltrate her brain.
"Rosie!" The voice echoed through her brain, and she shot up from her bed. She gasped for breath, scratching at her throat with her hands as she heaved. The young girl's sobs filled the air, and she felt two arms tightly wrapped around her. She instantly knew it was Daryl, and she melted into his arms as she sobbed.
"I know, I know, I know." Daryl comforted her, his arms holding her tightly as she cried, "I'm righ' 'ere. I got ya." His arms were wrapped around her small frame, allowing her to sob uncontrollably into his shoulder.
"He... He died..." Rosie whispered through muffled sobs, her voice breaking and cracking as she did so.
A sad expression flickered over Daryl's features, knowing exactly who she was talking about. Liam. His own heart sunk at the thought of him dying, but he pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind.
Daryl started to run his hands up and down her arm, attempting to comfort her. He was bad at comforting people, a sense of unsureness lingering in the atmosphere. He truly cared about her, and it scared him slightly just how much he cared about her.
He wanted to protect her from the world, never wanting to leave her.
"It's okay, I promise. Liam's alive." He reassured the shaking girl. She never wanted to let go.
She could hear the soft rise and fall of his chest, attempting to match her own with his.
"Is he..." She paused, taking a deep breath, "Is he okay?" She asked, Daryl noticed the saddened expression that she wore on her face.
"He's strugglin' but I know he's gon' get through it," Daryl muttered, making sure his voice was no louder than a gentle whisper.
She nodded slowly, trying her hardest to believe the words that left his lips — yet she still didn't believe him fully. She knew Liam was strong, but something inside of her knew there was a chance he was dying.
She pushed the thoughts to the back of her mind as Daryl let go of the girl. He took a small step backwards as she swung her legs over the edge of her bed, lifting herself from it.
A shot of pain radiated up her arm from her wrist, causing her to look down at it. That was when she remembered what she had done the day before. The wound that lay beneath the gauze was a permanent reminder of the way she felt.
Daryl gave her a quick nod as if to ask her if she was okay. She simply nodded back, her lips lifted to form a tight-lipped smile.
Running her hand through her hair, she reached for her hairbrush — barely managing to get it through the tangled mess of red locks. She sectioned her hair, braiding it tightly to try and keep it out of her way throughout the day.
Michonne had taught her how to do it, and she could remember how proud she had felt when she managed to do it for the first time.
It was messy, but who cares? Rosie certainly didn't.
She slipped on her hoodie as she left her cell, making sure it covered her arm. She didn't initiate any conversation with anyone, only saying "mhm" and "good morning" at the right times.
She shoved the cell block door open with a huff as it screeched against the concrete floor. The breeze and sunlight instantly hit her skin as she stepped outside, letting the door fall closed behind her.
She looked around in a daydream-like state, her eyes falling on the fence that surrounded the prison, separating the dead from the alive. Something was wrong. Rosalie raised her hand, protecting her eyes from the bright rays of the sun. The fence seemed like it was on the verge of falling to the ground, obviously unable to take the number of walkers that were piling up against it.
"Rick! Daryl!" Maggie yelled, not only grabbing their attention but also Rosalie's. She looked to the brunette woman, who was pointing to the fence Rosie had just been staring at. She began to make her way over to Maggie, keeping her pace slow but fast enough so she could watch from a distance.
She watched Rick as he muttered something under his breath, sprinting off. Daryl threw the shovel that was in his hands, grabbing his crossbow from the floor as he sprinted behind Rick.
Rosalie hastened her pace to a sprint, running down the gravel path, only a little bit behind Rick and Daryl.
She reached the fence, grabbing the sharpened pipes that everyone used when they were on fence duty.
"Rosalie?" Maggie and Rick questioned, not realizing she had joined them.
She nodded, beginning to pierce the skulls of the walkers that were piling up against the fence.
Maggie rolled her eyes at the girl for a second but continued to help the girl with the killing of the walkers.
"The noise drew 'em out and now this part's starting to give!" Maggie yelled over the sound of the walker's growling.
"I can see that!" Rosalie yelled, trying to ignore the walker blood that sprayed her each time she tugged the pipe from the walker's brain.
Tyreese and Sasha had also begun to help, without Rosie even realizing. The fence continued to dangerously shake, despite however many walkers they killed.
Rosalie let out a groan as more blood splattered her, wiping it from her face and rubbing it onto her jeans.
The fence fell lower and lower, which caused more and more anxiety to bubble up in Rosalie's stomach.
Maggie fell to the ground, letting out a groan as she hit the gravel. Rosie dropped her pipe and ran over to Maggie, helping her up as Glenn went to check on her.
Rosalie immediately went back to killing the walkers, trying her best to get rid of them all so she could make the others proud.
"Are you seein' this?" Sasha called out, pointing down to something on the floor. Rosalie paused what she was doing, again, peeking at where Sasha was pointing.
Sasha was pointing at dead rats, blood oozing out of each rat. As Rosalie's eyes fell on the rats, she grimaced at the horrendous sight.
"Ew, what the fuck is that?!" Rosie exclaimed, earning a few hard glares from the others. She looked around at the group, feeling all eyes on her as she looked at them as if to say "sorry".
Daryl's glare was the harshest, and she turned and shrugged at him, her eyebrows raised and her mouth a straight line.
"Is someone feeding these things?" Sasha questioned, her eyes remaining fixated on the blood-splattered ground.
"Heads up!" Daryl yelled, pulling Rosie's attention from the dead rats to the fence that had started to bend even further.
"Oh, shit!" She shouted, but this time everyone was too busy to notice her swearing for a second time.
"This part of the fence, now!!" Sasha screamed, the fence creaking as it started to bend dangerously low.
"Hold on, hold on! Hey, hey, hey!" Glenn screamed as everyone backed away from the fence, "It's gonna give! It's gonna give!"
Rosalie's heart leapt into her throat as she pushed against the fence, her heart beating loudly in her ears. A walker pressed itself against the fence, the wire digging deep into its skin and splitting it. Blood soaked Rosie, causing her to gag as it caused puke to rise in her throat.
She let out a scream, the weight of the fence burned her arms as she attempted to push it back into place.
"Everybody back! Come on, back. Now!" Daryl yelled, pulling at Rosalie's shoulder as she reluctantly let go of the fence. She was terrified it was going to fall, walkers invading the only home she had ever had.
"Fence keeps bending in like that, those walkers are coming over it," Sasha shouted over the growls and groans of the walkers.
Rosie took a deep breath, rubbing at her chest. If she was truthfully honest, she was fucking terrified.
"Daryl, get the truck. I know what to do." Rick spoke, pulling Rosie from her depressive thoughts.
She watched Rick and Daryl leave with the truck, and she continued to help Glenn and some others attempt to clear most of the walkers by the time the two men got back.
The walkers moved away from the gate, turning to attack Rick and Daryl instead.
"Woah, woah, woah!" She shouted, confusion and anxiety bubbling up inside of her as she looked to Maggie, "What the fuck are they doing?!" She questioned as she bit at her lip, scared they would slip up and get hurt. Maybe even die.
Rick grabbed a piglet, the one Carl and Rosalie had named Harriet. Her heart twinged at the memory of the two, knowing they would most likely never become friends like that again.
Harriet squealed and squirmed around in Rick's lap as he pulled out a knife, slicing its leg before throwing it to the herd of walkers.
Rosalie's hand clasped around her mouth as she watched Harriet get torn apart by the ruthless walkers. She wasn't attached to the piglet, but for some reason, it hurt to see the scene unfold.
Rosie and Carl leant against the fence to the pigpen, looking at the baby piglets that were running around in the pen. Rosalie let out a soft giggle as she watched them play.
"We should name that one Violet!" Carl smiled, pointing to the one with the black belly and rolling around in circles.
"Yes!" Rosie cheered, clapping her hands with excitement, "And that one is Harriet." She giggled again, looking at Carl who shot her a small smile, nodding vigorously.
"Yeah. I like that name." He leaned forward slightly as he pointed to the third and final pig, "I think we should name this one Wilbur. Like in Charlotte's Web." The pig has a black spot on its nose, and it was chasing around Harriet.
"You read that?" Rosie questioned, a confused expression etched on her face. She could never imagine Carl reading anything that wasn't comics.
"No. I watched the movie version." Carl answered, which also answered the many questions that were running through Rosie's mind.
Rosalie helped Glenn, grabbing one end of the log that lay by her feet as he grabbed the other. He pushed it against the top of the fence as she lowered the other end to the ground.
Rosie ignored the squeals of the piglets as she helped Glenn and Sasha keep the fence standing with the logs. She was far too weak to do it on her own, but with Glenn or Sasha's help, she could manage.
"Thanks." The redhead nodded to both Glenn and Sasha, waving goodbye as she walked up the gravel path. She made sure to hook the pipe back up onto the wire of the fence.
She slowly wandered back to her cell, the sound of the growling walkers only becoming a background noise for her. She rubbed at her eyes, feeling the exhaustion take over like it did every other day. Her muscles ached with over-exertion.
She slowly walked to the showers, the eerie feeling of death lingering in the air. She was fully aware that it was where Patrick had died, but she desperately needed to shower. She had walker guts all over her and in her hair.
Detangling her braid, she put the hair bobble around her wrist as she turned on the shower. The hot water relaxed her muscles, easing the achiness. She let out a relaxed sigh, cleaning the walker's blood and guts from her body and hair.
The water eventually slowed to a stop, as the showers were only allowed to use a certain amount of water because the rest was needed for drinking.
She wrapped the towel around her body, drying her damp body off. She got dressed into her "pyjamas" which were just a pair of checkered trousers and a baggy, black top.
Rosie made her way to her cell and despite it only being early on in the evening, she planned on going to sleep. She still felt exhausted, and her shower didn't exactly wake her up either.
As soon as she reached her cell, she shut her curtain and immediately flopped onto her bed. She closed her eyes, not having enough energy to keep them open as she started to doze off.
Instead of her dreams being plagued by Liam's death, they were filled with their memories together. Sitting on the roof, babysitting Judith, listening to Beth sing.
— FREYA SPEAKS
liam ain't dead i tricked yous 😈 i could never kill off my bby