Entry Number 5
Carl is missing. Rick is convinced Negan has something to do with it. I don't know how, seeing how Rick was with him the entire time. I've been searching half the night with everyone. Rick finally sent me to bed, but I can't fucking sleep. When I'm finished with this entry, I think I'm going to take Daryl and we're going to see if we can follow that damned truck. There has to be a way we can find the Saviors. My best guess is to head to the drop off point and go from there. Last time I went it had been systematically cleaned out of Walkers and the road seemed decently clear.
I am a shaking mess. I don't want anything to happen to Carl. Somehow I feel like this is my fault, even though somewhere deep inside I know it's not. I feel like I'm leading Negan on, that I'm letting him take advantage of me. And I like it. I can't lie here, I really, really enjoyed his kiss. And I feel like shit about it. It's probably my loneliness talking. I liked it and I want more. So much more.
Ugh, I promised Lori I would look after Carl and the baby and Rick and I feel like I'm doing a shitty, shitty job. I'm failing. I can't keep track of them anymore.
I've never been the girl to run away from her problems. I've always faced them head on because it's always seemed to break my anxiety. And now? All I want to do is run away and disappear into the forest and find a nice tree to live in. You know, like Katniss from the Hunger Games book. Live in a tree, live off the land. Be away from people. I've always hated people. And I can't say I like them much better now. But I can't leave Rick...
Goddamnit Carl. Why? Why did you have to go missing now? I'm so tired and confused and...pathetic. Yes, I am pathetic. All I do anymore is cry, or whine, or wallow. This isn't who I am...I don't know who I am anymore...
I got out THE BOX last night. And I felt guilty as fuck. All my worldly treasures are in that box. And if anyone else saw its contents, they'd be fucking livid at me. And hurt. I never wanted to hurt them, but I just wanted a few things for myself. A scrap of flannel reminding me of Jim, a dried flower, pressed between the pages of Amy's favorite book, Dale's watch, a clip from Sophia's hair, a small folded baby blanket that Lori had planned for Judith, the shell casing from Andrea's death bullet, Hershel's flask, a bookmark Beth used when she sat to read the bible at night, the cap I'd gone back and stolen from Tyreese's grave. And of course, it wouldn't have been complete without Shane's fucking hat.
I looked at all the cherished mementos and reminded myself why I'm doing all this. It's so I don't have to ever add anything to this box again. I don't want Maggie's ring or Glenn's pocketwatch or Carol's flower or Rick's badge in there. I don't want a piece of Carl or Judith in that box. I don't think my heart could handle it.
But as I've said before, I feel so horribly guilty for enjoying Negan's attention. Hell, I even enjoy snipping at him because he fires it right back at me. Shane used to be that way too, and it was all in good fun. With Negan it's far more serious and I get the feeling that he likes it too. I keep trying to tell myself that keeping Negan happy keeps us alive. But everyone looks at me with such contempt. I've only seen him 3 fucking times and already I'm being raked over the fucking coals. I hate these people. They hate me and they hate Rick and we've both done nothing but try to prepare them for the real world. They're sticking to the Old World and they're dying fast. They're all fucking idiots. And sometimes, the horrible person in me, doesn't give a shit if they live or die. I suppose if they did die I would care, but how do I care about people who don't give a fuck about me? Oh right all I have to do is look at my mother.
I'm in a very bad headspace right now and all I need is to keep busy. So now, I'm almost glad Carl is missing because I can focus on him and ignore all these fucking feelings I'm having about Negan and his hands and his lips and his voice and his fucking body against me. And his tongue in my mouth...Oh God...all I want is his damned tongue in my mouth.
What in the ever loving fuck is wrong with me?
