There was a time…
"I wasn't always like this," I say into the darkness, where my capturer hides himself. "Oh god was there a time…" I chuckle drily. "A time when I slept in a bed worth more than the average car, had whatever I wanted to eat at the click of my finger, loving parents- they weren't there for every bedtime story but they never missed a birthday or Christmas. Oh the Christmases they were unreal, like a seen from moves… A seven foot Christmas tree in the main room, presents staked ten to the dozen, stoking overflowing with chocolates and jewellery. My little brother loved and I mean loved Christmas. The kid wouldn't sleep a wink the night before and be out cold by lunchtime. My big sister didn't like it, she wanted to be with her friends in Italy or Paris… Wherever they were going on vacation, couldn't get her to stop whining… I can't remember if I liked Christmas, I guess I did, what kid doesn't like presents…? But I feel like the whole family being together was my favourite part, no business trips or work calls, just being together… How did you celebrate Christmas?"
"Doesn't matter," those were the first words he has spoken since dragging me into this… I think it's an empty house, I was unconscious when they brought me here but the room is small, floor smooth and my voice echoes so I think it's a house, I didn't see many roomy sheds when jumping the wall.
"Everything matters… until it doesn't, I guess... I guess… I guess? I guess too much. Never sure, I guess that's what happens in a world like this, ha I did it again," I smirk into the darkness. I'm lent up agents a wall, hands bound behind my back, feet also tied, if I really tried I could get my hands free but by the time I got to my feet my hands would be tied behind my back again or there would be a bullet in my brain, these people don't seem to mess around a lot. "Why isn't there a bullet in my brain?"
"Cause' you're just a kid," says another man's voice.
What? I only thought there was one, maybe there's two, hell there could be a million people hidden in the darkness for all I know.
"You've been talking to yourself since you wake up," says the first man, the it 'doesn't matter' man.
"Oh… must have finely gown crazy, didn't even realise… that's sad, you never think it's gonna be you and then it is, and then you get hit in the face by the big question…" I click my tough a few times.
"An' what's tha'?" ask the second guy. He has an ascent, southern, Mississippi, no maybe New York, but the twang might mean Georgia, hu… "Hello," second guy says.
"Hi," I say back.
"I asked you a question," the man hissed, sounding frustrated.
"Oh sorry, wait… why am I sorry? It's not like talking hurts you, me on the other hand… Was I meant to answer a question? Will I answer it? Should I answer it? I'm dead either way, am I? I'm still talking out loud, will I stop… No, ha, guess I did jump off the deep end… What was the question?"
"What's the big question?" ask Doesn't matter.
"Hu… Oh, now I remember… What are you doing with your life…? What am I doing with my life? Sitting in the dark talking to people that aren't there, am I dead? Is this what death feels like? Maybe I'm a Bitter? I don't remember getting bit?"
"Rick, she's crazy, ya tried man but this ones a lost course. Let's just put the kid out of her misery," says southern.
"No!" hiss the first man.
"This isn't Carl or Judith, this is the girl that tried to kill you and everyone else in here!"
Maybe this is real, why would I argue with myself, that's just crazy, I laugh.
"I know that! But she could easily have been Carl, don't you see that, she was someone's daughter and just got court up with the wrong people."
Carl? I don't know a Carl, maybe they're talking about coral, sea-plant, see plant, see plant I told you so, ha. Maybe we're near the ocean, have I been to the ocean? Flown over it, does that count? No, yes, no, yes, no, yes- hey I can argue with myself.
"Yesterday you would have shot her an' any othe' person that put a risk to the group, what happened?"
"…I remember the pain when Otis shoot Carl, almost losing him. We can't keep going like we were Daryl, that's not living, just fighting death…"
So Doesn't matter is Rick and southern is Daryl.
"…Fine. She got ta answer the questions if she's gonna be sticking around here. Even if she stays locked up here."
"How many walkers have you killed?"
Is Rick asking me that, yes, yes he is. What's a walker, my grandmother had a walker…?
"…Bitters," Rick says a little less patient.
"Oh, Bitters… two too many…"
"How many people have you killed?"
"1, 2, 3, 4… yeah 11. Wait did- did I kill someone today? I can't remember…" my owe voice scars me, it sounds broken, I am broken.
"No, you were knocked out in the first minuets."
"Good, good, is that good, yes it's good, yeah," I nod to myself.
"Why?" he asks.
"I kill bitters coz they are dead, I kill people because their dyeing. I didn't always agree with my actions, but some of those people were bad…"
"The people you were with, weren't bad?" ask Southen- Daryl, who has been quit for some time.
"Not as bad as some, they had a system, systems work," my head bobs slightly as I lick my dry lips. One of them scoffs and a chair squeaks across the floor for a second then there's some foot steps, the sound of a door opening and closing.
It's quite for a very long time before Rick asks, "are you hungry?"
"Most definitely."