Update: Rewritten 29/5/2017
Cut me deep, these secrets and lies
Storm in the quiet
It had been a while since I had truly been alone. There was absolutely nothing around me. Just four walls, a door and the sound of dead people trying to eat me. I had always been with my mother. She would never leave my side, and vice-versa.
The quiet, the darkness scared me. Being alone scared me.
The first few hours I had felt trapped. I was pacing around the small room, my mind was racing through every option I had. But the cluster of walkers outside my door only got bigger. The amount of walkers attracted more walkers, that amount of walkers attracted even more walkers and so on.
So after those hours, I submitted. My body let itself fall on the floor in exhaustion. My head was pounding with all of my thoughts and my heart was racing with anxiety. I didn't want to die here. Not today. But there was nothing I could do.
So I sat there, on the ground. Listening to the shuffling and pounding of the walkers. I think they had already forgotten someone was in here, they were just throwing themselves against the door because the rest of the corpses were.
More hours passed and with each one my body started to get worse. Hunger had started to take over, thirst was settling in my throat and mind. Each breath was hoarse and painful. My throat felt like sandpaper because of the lack of water, I felt sick because of the little food I had in me. My eyes felt heavy and were starting to close on its own. So I just let them. My mind drifted away and before I knew it I had fallen asleep.
The first time I woke up was brief. When I opened my eyes I noticed they had adjusted to the small amount of light. The room was more visible now, I could see the door more clearly. But I could only see it for a few minutes before my eyes closed again.
With my eyes closed, my thoughts went over to Carol. I hoped she was alright. She seemed pretty skilled with a gun and I didn't doubt the fact that she'd know her way around a knife too. I hoped the little number of walkers helped her find her way back. Maybe she found someone, maybe she was back at the cellblock.
T-Dog also appeared in my mind. He had sacrificed his last moment to save us, to save Carol. I didn't know him that well. I just had to occasional chats with him. He was a good man, the kind of man that would put his life before ours.
My breathing had slowed down since last time. My heartbeat had reduced with it. Even though my heart was pacing really slow, it was loud. I could hear and feel it pounding in my head, trying to make me stand up and do something. My muscles weren't complying. I tried to lift my arm, but it ached so bad that I just gave up and let it hang by my side.
I was going to die here. The thought almost made me laugh. Whenever I thought of my death, I'd imagine it to be heroic. I'd sacrifice myself like T-Dog, take a bullet or something alike. I'd imagine myself fighting to the last second, fight until my last breath would escape my lips. My mother always told me that your body would shut the pain down when you were close to dying. It just didn't care anymore, it would just let you die.
The imagine of my mother flashed through my mind and I grimaced. I'd leave her alone. She was going to have to life without me. I didn't know what to think about that thought. My mother without me, didn't seem right. Maybe because I was just so used to having her with me. I couldn't imagine her on her own. She didn't know how to fight, she didn't know how to survive. But that's where I was wrong. She already was a survivor, but just in her own way.
I thought about the things she'd survived. I actually just thought about one thing she'd survived.
A scream filled my ears. The pain clear in their voice. Goosebumps arrived as I looked at my little sister, who's face was scrunched up in pain. Her mouth was open, but suddenly I couldn't hear anything anymore. There was a slight beep in my ears. But my mind didn't even register it, all I could see was the body of my little sister. My little sister.
''GO!'' Was suddenly yelled in my ear and I spun around, only to see my father grabbing me by my shoulders. His face was covered in wrinkles. Wrinkles that used to appear from smiling, but were now replaced with wrinkles caused by worrying. Then I blinked, and he was replaced by my mother.
''No! You can't go!'' Her nails were digging into my shoulders, slowly drawing blood. I looked down, almost in slow-motion, to see a few specks of blood appear on my bare shoulders.
That's when I realised that there was something going on around me. Not just something, there was a lot going on around me. My mother had gone, vanished. I could hear her screaming. But she wasn't the only scream I could hear. My dad, my sister also joined in.
I spun around, trying to find the source of the sound. Only at that moment I saw where I was. We were somewhere in an industrial area. The place of our previous camp.
I heard gunshots, people screaming, I heard the sounds of skulls crack and then...
Nothing.
''You're gonna have to make a decision.'' I heard a voice in my ear. I couldn't move at first. I couldn't look to the man who was standing so close to me it hurt. My hands were trembling, my body was shaking, my heart pounding and I was on the verge of tears.
''No please,'' I said, my voice shaking as I quickly shook my head no.
''What's it gonna be?'' He whispered again, ignoring my pleas.
My eyes travelled down to see a familiar gun in my hands. The gun was loaded, that I knew. My hands cocked the gun, against my will, and my finger placed itself on the trigger. I wasn't able to control my body as I raised the weapon, pointing it at the person in front of me.
The man was still next to me, whispering something in my ear.
''Aubrey!'' I suddenly heard my mom yell, but I ignored her.
I stared at the person in front of me in silence. My brain couldn't process any logical sentences. My body and mind screamed at me to stop, but I knew what I had to do. The person in front of me begged me with its eyes. He begged me to stop. To stop the pain.
I gripped the gun tighter and pulled the trigger.
''AUBREY!''
My eyes snapped open, as if someone had scared me awake. I looked around the room, not expecting anything new, when I noticed I wasn't alone anymore. A body was hunched over, focussing on the ground below. Even though there was no face visible, I knew immediately who it was.
''Dad?'' I said, my voice sounding crooked and I swallowed painfully. He lifted his head to look at me and when his familiar face came into view I felt my throat tighten.
''Hi sweety,'' He said, giving me a full-tooth smile.
My dad was in his late fifties. Wrinkles and grey hairs had already started to develop when the outbreak happened. Still, my dad had always been in shape. He used to be an athlete back in the days and, even when he grew too old, he never stopped training. There was beard grown on his face from the lack of shaving. Stains from blood, mud, sweat and things I couldn't even imagine, were visible on his clothes and skin, but his eyes were still glinting in the dark.
He didn't move from his position, but he did let himself lean back against the wall. Making himself comfortable.
There was a moment of silence, where none of us spoke a word. I was still too dazed to actually acknowledge my father's presence, my dead father's presence. I wasn't sure what to say to him, but I was also just too tired to try. Fortunately, after a few minutes my dad decided to speak up.
''It's been awhile, hasn't it?'' I nodded as a response. I knew I had to be one to start, I had to be the one to talk about it. It was my fault after all.
''I'm sorry,'' I said, tears filling my eyes and my throat was tightening. It felt like I was suffocating, suffocating by the truth of what I had done. To my dad, my little sister, to- I bit my tongue in anger, refusing to speak about her. I didn't deserve to think about her, she didn't deserve that. ''I never meant for it to go down like that.'' My voice sounded heavy with unshed tears, like I was trying to keep everything inside.
My father sighed, rubbing his head with his hands. ''I know.'' Was all he said. There was no emotion behind in, no way to tell what that meant. If it meant anything. I shut my eyes, trying to get rid of the tears.
When I opened my eyes, my dad was gone.
In it's place was someone else, actually there were two people in his place.
Teresa looked like the day I had last seen her. Her dark greasy hair was pulled up in a tight ponytail. Her stuffed pet 'Noonoo', that looked like a hybrid between a dog and a bee, clutched against her chest. She was wearing a purple shirt that looked like it hadn't been washed in over a year. Her pants didn't look any better. The ones blue colour had faded into something darker and filthy. The only difference with the Teresa in front of me and the Teresa I saw last is that this one didn't have a bullet in her head. She didn't have any of the injuries she received that day. My little sister's leg looked fine, her head looked intact and she was smiling.
My brother also looked different. His weight seemed healthy, his skin was the colour a skin should be and he didn't look like he was going to throw up any second. Ian looked stable, as if he had never seen a hospital in his life. Unlike Teresa, or me for that matter, Ian's clothes were clean. His face was cleaner than I had ever seen it and his hair was washed.
The tears that I had finally managed to push away came rushing forward again, hitting me like a train. This time I couldn't do anything to stop it. I felt the salty liquid roll down my skin. At first there were only a few tears, but more appeared and fell down my cheeks, until I couldn't stop them anymore and I just let it be.
I placed my head in between my knees and gritted my teeth together as the first sob escaped my lips. It was painful against my throat, but that didn't matter at the time. I kept crying for a few seconds, before I realised I wasn't alone right now.
I was scared they'd be gone as I lifted my head. Just like my dad. But they were still here, looking at me with sympathy in their eyes. While looking at them, I realised I wasn't the only one crying. Teresa's eyes were wet and I saw a small tear roll down her cheek. She sniffed loudly before speaking up.
''Please don't be sad.'' The 11 year old attempted as a form of consolation. I forced out a chuckle, about how ironic her phrase was, since she was also crying.
Ian stepped forward, making the attention shift towards him.
''Aubrey, would you-'' There was a moment of silence where he seemed to ponder what he was saying. He took another step forward and knelt down so we were on the same eye level. His brown looked so fragile right now. Ever since I was born I had looked up to him. My big brother, fearless, brave, rebellious. Of course that had changed when he had gotten sick. There had been many times where he had looked fragile. Fearlessness wasn't present in him anymore. No, he had shown a lot of fear. He had shown fear when he would throw up so much the barf turned into blood. Or when he was about to get surgery. There had been fear in his eyes on his last day.
''Would you like to come with us?'' His question snapped me out of my thoughts and I looked up at him. The brown eyes weren't begging me to go with him. He was simply giving me an option, if I'd take it, that'd be my choice.
I could feel my body. How powerless it was right now. It was on the verge of dying, I knew it. I knew that because I couldn't feel anything. The hunger had subsided, my throat still hurt, but it wasn't really painful anymore, it was just an ache. My muscles were tired and I was wondering why I was even here.
Before I could open my mouth, before I could answer. My dad appeared behind my brother. A hand was placed on Ian's shoulder.
''I'm afraid she can't.'' He told Ian, ''She has to stay here.'' Ian nodded in response, accepting our dad's answer. But I was spluttering, trying to come up with a reaction.
''But-I- What if I don't want to stay?'' I tried, struggling with speaking out loud. It sounded more like a whisper, but all three of them still heard it. Probably because they only existed in my head.
''I'm afraid you don't have a choice.''
And just like that, they were gone.
Instead of the silence I expected, there was a noise. At first I thought it was a walker, but it didn't sound like someone slamming themselves against the door. It sounded like a knife. And I knew what a knife meant, that meant a living person.
My body shot itself up with the little adrenaline I had left and I started to drag myself to the door. I was already panting within the first second, but the thought of getting out of here seemed to push me through.
As soon as I reached the door I let my hand smash against it. My body sank down on the ground after that. My back in the air and my cheek pressed against the cool floor. I knew I'd have to hit it again, since there was a possibility the person on the other side hadn't heard me.
I raised my arm and slammed it against the door again with all my might. I let it fall in front of me again, having no energy to keep it up. I wondered how long I had been here. Considering the state of my body, it felt like at least a day or two.
I was preparing myself to raise my arm again, when the door opened. At first, I thought it would be a walker, coming to tear me apart. But when I was rolled onto my back, I knew it couldn't be. I flinched against the bright light that arrived from the doorway, making it impossible for me to see who my saviour was.
I tried blinking, hoping it would help my vision a bit. Fortunately, my eyes adjusted to the light, probably not because of the blinking. I felt a hand against my forehead. It was very cold compared to my sweating skin. To me, it appeared like I was glowing. So the cold hand of the person in front of me almost made me sigh.
By now I could see who it was that had opened the door. Daryl Dixon was standing over me, a worried look plastered on his face as he took in my appearance. I felt an arm making its way under my back and another one under my knees. As he lifted me up bridal style, I groaned slightly. It seemed like I hadn't moved on days and my muscles were aching like hell.
''H-How long?'' I asked him, my voice sounding way worse than I thought when I talked to my family.
''3 Days,'' Daryl grumbled as he started walking down the hallway,
''3 Days.''
Thoughts and pointing out grammar mistakes are always appreciated :)
