Driftwood
Day 156: Michonne
I couldn't sleep. Rick was out. I mean he never sleeps heavy but he was out. All I could do was look at him. We were both still squeezed on his twin size cot together. Butt ass naked except for a blanket that barely covered our lower parts. I was looking at him and I just couldn't understand how his chapped lipped self was able to seduce me to break every single one of my vows with Mike. His scraggly beard...He softly said my name in his sleep and turned away from me. He had me all night and he still was dreaming about me. Just madness. Suddenly I could feel him. His semen slowly being expelled from my body. I couldn't lay there another second. I made haste to the waterfall. It was light out. I took my makeshift toiletry bag with me and a change of clothes. The water felt good on my body as the air was beginning to heat up. Then my thoughts began to get the better of me. My thoughts took me to the shore where I cursed GOD for allowing this to happen. I had a husband. My vows were serious.
I could only think about if Mike found out he would fight Rick for sure. He would try and kill Rick for sure. He would. I know Rick doesn't like me saying this but Mike maybe a black Clark Kent by day but he was definitely my...I used the word was...
I don't know why I got on that contraption. As I predicted it was trying to send me to my watery death.
Well I was catatonic for a couple of days afterwards even if Rick thought I was faking.
Driftwood
Day 156: Rick
I woke up to find Michonne gone. That was not part of the morning routine.
I think that was the heaviest I had ever slept since being on the island. Stranded. I immediately remembered the hours before sleep took over me. I had Michonne in ways that I desired and I know I was acting as if my appetite for her was insatiable but I need her to know just how much. I needed her to accept that. Accept me and I thought she did until I realized she wasn't coming right back.
I still could taste her. I could still feel her. My lower part wanted a repeat. I got up from my cot and looked out the window and I could see her down at the shore talking to herself. I could tell she was angry just by her hand gestures. She even got on my contraption that I had held to shore by stakes in the sand. The stakes I made was to ensure it didn't just float a way. It was high tide and she was floating a way on the Gotdamn contraption.
I could see she was in a panic state. I didn't think to put shoes on. Have to be careful of stonefish. I would at least die trying to get to her. To save her.
I just knew I had to get to her before she was carried too far...I know I am crying. Give me a second. She likes when I cry. I hate it. I hate it because she makes me feel that if I lost her today I would be dead by tomorrow. It's so intense. I hate thinking back on it. I don't like her in that state she gets in. She has a fear of water like I've may have said before. I am quite sure she would tell you the same.
I remember rushing out. She was screaming as the waves were taking her a way. I yelled for her to jump off. She did. I swam to her as fast as I could. Pulled her out. Now if she mentions one more time about Mike being a Black Clark Kent...Ask her where was her fucking Superman when her ass was trying to drown us both?
She says she was Catatonic for two days? Have I mentioned how dramatic she could be?
