CRACK; he hears it shatter under his boots. He looks down and sees a piece of glass, obliterated beneath his feet. How many lives has he crushed in this way? His own life was crushed in this way. He picks up the biggest shard and stares at it. It is straight at the top, like the beginning of his innocent life as a teacher. Then it starts to get jagged, with violent cracks, until it is a murderous weapon. The abrupt transition is the same as the one he had in his life, when the world as he once knew it crashed down around him. And it didn't begin with the walkers.
It began with one choice.
One small choice to lose his temper at the infuriating sight of adultery. His wife's cries of regret and protest were futile. They flew past his ears as he threw yet another punch as the senator's bruised, bloody face. An important figure in government broke one of the Ten Commandments with his wife… it was too hard to believe. He guessed he should've taken the hint earlier; the government doesn't give a shit about its citizens.
Even in the middle of the apocalypse.
He didn't mean to go that far. Just throw a couple punches and kicks to get the point across. But before he knew it, the rage ate him up. Consumed him. The inner beast locked up inside Lee Everett, abandoned for so long, broke out of its cage and decided to destroy the bloody pulp in front of him. At first he consoled himself with the thought that the rage was too much for anyone to control; that he had no choice. He knows now that he did have a choice; he just didn't care enough to stop. All he could see was red. All he could feel was anger and betrayal.
And he got himself sent to jail.
He squeezed his hand tightly in disgust of himself, and felt blood trickle down his arm, from the sharp glass digging into his flesh. He couldn't feel a thing; his walker bite had numbed his arm. But the bite didn't just numb his arm; oh no. The deadness overcame the rest of his body. Overwhelmed all his feelings. He couldn't cry about it, or get mad, or feel happy to be released from this nightmare.
He believed now that one choice, such as that first bad one, could single-handedly get rid of everything you worked for.
He thought back to the St. John's Dairy. Those sick, twisted bastards that ate Mark. Cringing inside at the memory, he recalled his throbbing head as he woke up in a meat locker. Larry, rest his soul, was a huge pain in the ass for him. They never did get along. But that didn't stop Lee from trying to save him. He knew he was alive; he knew it. He saw the man's mouth form a word! Just as he thought that he really could save a life, that he wasn't good for nothing and they could make up, he was sprayed… doused in the last of Larry's life. Kenny… KILLED that man. And he expected Lee to help him with murder. Lee had had enough of that for one life. Their morals were different and they argued, but Lee still felt that Kenny was a real friend to count on, even if he did hold a grudge.
Now, he might be walking around with the dead.
Next, he tried helping people again. Lilly was able to convince him to go searching for the meds. If he hadn't found that brown paper package in the vent, he wouldn't have worked Lilly up. Carley would still be breathing, not dead on the ground with her brains spilled next to her. Of course, that wasn't all his fault. If that dumbass Ben hadn't started a trade with those damn bandits, none of that would've happened in the first place.
That doesn't mean Lee didn't regret it.
He also wished he would've never left Lilly. He condemned her to death by leaving her out on the streets. Sure, she killed Carley; that doesn't mean he had to sink down to her level.
He's hurt so many; there wasn't enough time to gain forgiveness from all of his victims.
Most of them are probably dead now, anyway. Like he was about to be.
He also believed that one good choice could change your life for the better. He did choose to take Clementine with him that first night.
Clementine… Clementine! He looked up slowly, towards the building that trapped his little girl. He squeezed the glass tighter, and raised his arm, ready to strike. Out of his back pocket came out his vicious cleaver, manned with his good hand. That son of a bitch who stole Clem will wish he had never seen the light of day. He heard the familiar screech of the walkers, and remembered his inner monster. This time, however, he was fully prepared to let it lose. The rage was building, flooding his veins from deep within. Forget the senator. Forget the St. Johns. Forget the dead walking around him! Lee Everett will not let anything stand in his way. Clem is stuck in a room in that hotel, trapped by a psychotic stalker with a walkie-talkie. He no longer cares about all the horrible events he has lived through as he slashes and smashes his way through the mob. The thought of Clementine: her sweet, sugary voice and the hat she loves so much is all he needs. Covered in the sticky, dark walker blood, he knows that he is near the end. But for that pig-tailed little girl, he will do anything. Saving Clementine is his one last choice.