I'm not crazy. I'm just a little unwell.
I know right now you can't tell
But stay awhile and maybe then you'll see
A different side of me.
- Matchbox 20. Unwell
The next three days passed by uneventfully but uneasy all the same. Their new camp was more exposed than the Greene's farm so they were on edge. It didn't help that Shane was using their fear to stage a mutiny to get the group to leave for Fort Benning. Rick still wanted to stay in the area, holding out hope that having Maggie as an ambassador would be enough to get Herschel to let them back. It was making for a stressful group dynamic.
It wasn't so much the reason Sophia was ill at ease as she sat across from Carl and Lori with a world atlas in front of her.
The breeze played with the thirteen tin cans hanging on the line at the edge of camp. Besides being the worst possible number, they weren't evenly spaced out. Sophia glued her eyes to the map she was trying to fill in. She could still see the string in her mind. The scraggly line that represented a river on the west coast stayed unlabeled as she came up with a strategy to fix the cans.
It became impossible to sit still. To not get up from her seat and take the first one off the string and move it back about five inches, leave the second one where it was, move the third one to the right three inches, the fourth right another two inches.
Go on and do it. Daryl already thinks you're nuts, why not let everyone else know too?
A cold voice started whispering in her ear. You know what they say? You can't be ashamed of who you are.
She put her pencil to the map. It made a small mark that didn't really effect the quality of the map but all the same Sophia flipped the pencil around in her hand and rubbed the eraser over the mark.
So be who you are. That voice taunted her as it always did.
The eraser blew the mark into an ugly smudged streak. Sophia rubbed it harder but that made it worse, covering half of the state of Arizona in an grey smog.
A dirty freak.
Please just shut up. Sophia snapped back.
Yeah beg. Like he always said you would. That's a good wh-
Shut up!
"Sophia. Sophia." Lori tried to get her attention as the pencil flexed in her fist. "Take a break, ok?"
Lori looked at her with that motherly concern.
Nice going. She gave herself a sarcastic pat on the back.
She nodded and swung her legs out from underneath the picnic table. She kept her eyes down as she walked through camp. Sophia didn't have any place in mind to go. She just walked.
"Is everything ok?" asked Carl, catching up to her.
Could you say it any louder?
Dale's eyes flitted to over to them, curiously awaiting her reply.
"Yes, everything's fine." Sophia spoke the words slowly so her voice wouldn't betray her and crack with emotion. She was well practiced at it. Same with not letting her hands shake even when her heart was going million miles an hour.
"Wanna play checkers?" Carl asked.
No I do not.
"Alright." She had to pretend she was okay or else he'd get suspicious and start asking questions and she didn't have the energy right now to side step around them.
They were in the middle of their second game, Sophia had lost the first game and was losing ground and pieces almost every second turn because she couldn't pay attention to Carl's moves when there was so much going on in camp around her. Lori and Shane were talking, Glenn was wrapping up a hose around his arm, Rick was walking up to them.
"Glenn and I are going to go refill the water. You two want to come along, see the creek?" he asked.
"Yes," said Carl enthusiastically.
Thank God. Sophia thought. "I think I'll stay here."
Carl looked torn between them.
"Go on. I got to do some reading," Sophia gave him a nudge.
She wasn't lying about reading. Sophia found her copy of The Yearling, that she was assigned for a book report. It was a big book, which she didn't like but it had a cute little fawn on the cover, she liked that at least.
Sophia sat down in a lawn chair by Carol stitching up several tears in someone's sleeping bag. She watched her mom's hand very careful guidance of the needle and thread in and out of the torn green fabric. Carol could fix anything.
She couldn't fix the tears in you. That voice came back. And she wouldn't want to if she knew.
Sophia kicked off her shoes and bunched her socks up into the bottom of them. She still had the tensor on her ankle, that had gotten loose and slide down a bit.
She wouldn't want anything to do with you.
Sophia continued to ignore it. She tucked her legs up on the lawn chair and cracked open the paper backs cover.
"A column of smoke rose thin and straight from the cabin chimney. The smoke was blue…" she read over the first lines.
No it wasn't.
The cigarette smoke was ghostly silver, I watched it curl and twist and break apart into very thin ribbons until it disappeared. I like to try and imagine things in it like eagles or other animals.
Dad brought the cigarette up to his lips, the tip blazed orange in the dimness of the living room. His drag was cut off as he celebrated the Falcons scoring a touch down. He leaned back against the couch, his arm stretched out against the back of it behind me.
I watched the replay of the touchdown in slow motion, I really didn't get this stupid game, then out the window at the darkening sky, could feel the cool night breeze coming in through its open screen. I wondered what Megan and Emma were doing. I was supposed to hang out with them but Dad told her me had to stay home. They were probably out at the park, eating pizza from Papa's Pizza because they sold it by the slice.
The lounge chair was empty. Mom was working at the diner tonight. I should've gone with her and helped out. I'm going to need new pointe shoes soon.
I remembered there was a grape soda in the fridge, right next to the margarine. I was just about to get up when Dad's hand came down from the back of the couch and grabbed the back of my neck painfully tight…
Andrea walked in front of her chair pulling Sophia out of her old living room and back in camp. Her fingers trembling at corner of the page, threatening to rip it, tear it…
"The Yearling, I read that in school a looong time ago," said Andrea, seeing the cover. "It's a classic."
She merely nodded, knowing she wouldn't be able to keep her voice even this time. Her calm, even if just pretend, was cracked now.
Broken.
Trying desperately to catch her breath, Sophia looked around camp at her fellow survivors, that she had gotten to know over the last couple of weeks. They were all good people.
She got up and walked around camp, the outskirts so no one would notice her.
The grass was cool on her bare feet. She liked walking around in bare foot. Another thing she liked was blueberries. Sophia found a small bush and plucked two blueberries off a vine. Keeping them in her hand, she crouched down to look for any other of nature's treat hidden by the leaves. A cluster of blueberries hung together but they were all too small and green to be picked.
There were probably more bushes around. Sophia went back up the small slope to camp and grabbed a empty ice cream bucket and went back down to the tree line.
Every summer her and her mom would go out to this farm outside of Dawsonville where you could pick enough blueberries and blackberries to fill a whole ice cream bucket. Carol would always bake a pie or two depending on how many berries Sophia ate. That night at the Greene's was far from the first time she had thrown up purely berries. Sophia popped the newest blueberry in her mouth rather than put it in the bucket. It wouldn't be the last either.
Working her way down the tree line, she almost stepped on a gathering of toadstools. They were small and whitish brown, so they were technically only mushrooms, but she liked toadstools better, especially when they were seated in a horseshoe shape like there had been a meeting of fairies. Sophia didn't know anything about mushrooms so she didn't pick any, however she did poke the rubbery tops.
She could pick just one. Carl would like them.
The fairies returned when the moon was highest in the night sky to discuss what was to be done about all the rabbits. Iris sat beside Rosaline, and Daisy beside her and so on and so forth. However there was an empty spot in the half circle.
"Where's my seat?" asked Tiger Lily.
Without a seat, Tiger Lily had no vote. And so they didn't get majority vote and nothing was done about the rabbits and they ate the whole forest, leaving millions homeless.
Then again, maybe she better not.
Her Papaw had a vegetable garden. He use to pay her a dollar when she was young for helping him weed it, even though she just picked the stem and left the roots in the ground. She would spend that dollar at the dollar store. She normally bought little plastic animals. Whenever her mom or Mamaw bought strawberries at the store, they saved the green baskets for her because they made perfect pens for the animals, except for the giraffes or the giant llama.
"Is there a flood coming?" Papaw would say when she sat up all the little cages in her grandparent's living room.
Once she bought a barrel of monkeys. Monkeys were one of her favorite animals. Sometimes she bought other things but right now Sophia couldn't remember what they were.
The oval leaves of another blueberry bush caught her eye. Sophia found some more berries. It was a good bush, there were lots of ripe berries. Two thirds went into the bucket.
The only thing she wasn't allowed to buy at the dollar store were those gooey, sticky things that stuck on the wall or on the roof when you threw them because they left slime marks behind. Little did Carol know that she got one in goodie bag at Wendy's birthday party and Sophia got it stuck on the roof of their basement. It was probably still up on the ceiling.
Run! An alarm sounded in her head like a siren as a walker came out of the woodwork towards her.
Could she outrun it? The camp was an entire football field away and her ankle was still sore.
Scream!
She couldn't. It was stuck in her throat.
What are you waiting for, idiot!?
Sophia opened her mouth but all she managed was a highish yip. It only succeeded in alerting the walker to her, it did nothing to let anyone back at camp know about it.
"Sophia Lynn, yer a bit far from camp, don't cha think?"
It wasn't a walker. It was Daryl walking in the forest, coming back from his hunt, a two dead grouse swinging by the feet in one hand, the other on the crossbows strap slung across his chest. He looked at her, then to the small tent city over her shoulder, then back to her.
Since when did you care so much is what I think. Sophia thought. And how do you know my middle name?
For an instant, he saw defiance in her eyes. It was surprising since it goes without saying that she wasn't in any way, shape or form in a standpoint to intimidate him.
"Let's go. Before I gotta git more stitches 'cause of ya," Daryl pointed her back to camp with a hand on her shoulder.
It wasn't her injured shoulder. Sophia stumbled over her own heel, and twisted her head around to keep an eye on him. It put her back in her place like a slap to the back of the head which was what Sophia thought was coming and Daryl didn't mean for at all.
"Aw shit, sorry." Out of some odd habit, Daryl clapped her on the back, exactly what he was apologizing for. Sophia shrugged her shoulders back in defense. "Crap, I'm sorry, sorry. I'll stop."
That kicked off an awkward walk.
"How's your ankle?" asked Daryl.
"It's getting better. How's your side?"
"It's good. Still have the lucky six an' they haven't gotten infected yet so that's a plus."
All you gotta do is keep them clean Sophia thought.
His hand was dirty with flecks of blood from the grouse. His fingernails were short and uneven, ragged to the touch no doubt. They gave her more chills than the dead eyes of the grouse.
Sophia ate another blueberry from out of the bucket. she offered the bucket to Daryl.
"Thanks," said Daryl, taking a few berries.
Even though he had a hard time keeping his hands, dirty hands might she add, to himself, she was grateful that Daryl was walking back with her and he was walking slowly so she had an easy time keeping up with him because he knew her ankle was still hurting.
"There you are," greeted Carl as they entered camp.
There you are? Are you fucking kiddin' me? Daryl looked over at Sophia like he might lay into her.
He didn't say anything though, only tossed his head and scoffed as he walked in the same strut he had when he was told that they weren't going to shoot Amy in the head after she died.
"I caught some tadpoles, come see." Carl grabbed her wrist to show her. Sophia jerked back a little.
You can't be normal for two seconds. That same voice came back.
She allowed Carl to lead her but that didn't mean she was at all ok with it.
"Please tell me those taste like chicken," commented Glenn as Daryl walked towards the fire pit.
"Yeah," answered Daryl, not really hearing the question. He turned to Andrea, Carol, and Lori who ceased their conversation once they noticed him standing there. "Not the only thing I found out there. Found yer little wayward girl twenty yards from here."
Carol was taken back at the hostility. Inwardly she cringed at what the others were thinking; that she was a horrible mother.
"Thanks, I'll - um - I'll have a talk with her," said Carol.
"Talk to her. Tie her up in the RV…"
His voice carried over to where Sophia was watching a handful of tadpoles swim around in the circular confines of a yellow bucket.
" …I don't care what ya do, just keep a damn eye on her," Daryl barked before storming off, away from the scowls of Andrea and Lori.
Everything in the outside world became muffled so Sophia didn't hear the last part. It was the first bit that echoed over and over in her head.
He's right. You should be tied up. You shouldn't be allowed to walk around with everyone else. These are good people.
The mute button got flicked off, not only did the world become filled with noise once more, but it was all magnified even the tiny, sporadic splashes of the tadpoles rang out like bells. She was drowned in noise outside and in.
He knows. Why else would he say that?
That's crazy, there's no way he could.
Before she knew it, Sophia was standing by the alarm tin can system. She would have to break the string to readjust the cans.
"What are you doing?" asked Carl, who had followed her. She heard him but it was like he was speaking another language.
No he doesn't know about it but he does know there is something wrong with me. He can see it.
She pulled as hard as she could, trying to snap it.
He'll tell the others.
"Give me your knife," Sophia said softly to Carl.
Carl took his knife out of his pocket. He didn't offer it, she just took it.
"Sophia, what are you doing?" he asked again.
His best friend had a strange look on her face that bothered him for some reason.
Like an animal pinned into a corner, her inner thoughts became aggressive and lashed out.
He's got to go.
The blade was more than enough for the string. It ripped through it and then through the upper part of Sophia's hand.
Blood. Not a lot. There was a small trickle of blood running down to my knee. It stained my silky, pink PJ shorts, the ones with the pandas on them…
A panicked look on Carl's face caught Dale's attention. He walked over to the two resident kids. The can string was broken at one end. Sophia was staring blankly at her bleeding hand.
"She accidently cut herself with my knife, cutting the string," Carl explained.
Dale moved in to take a look. Sophia snapped out of her little moment to react in the way she should; upset.
"Hey, it's ok," he coaxed her.
Rick overheard them and went to offer some assistance.
For God's sakes, back off. Daryl thought as he too became aware of what was going on. He had half a mind to go over there himself but that would put way too many people in the vicinity.
"Sophia, can I see it? I won't touch it. Promise." asked Rick gently.
Sophia obliged, holding her palm out towards Rick. The wound stretched from her pinkie to her finger finger and up across her middle finger.
"It ain't deep," Rick said, "Carl, go get some band aids."
Happy to help, Carl wasted no time running to the RV. Sophia watched him go, right past Shane and T-Dog who were curiously watching them. Daryl was also watching her, less curious.
"…but he's right, I should be keeping a closer eye on her." Carol said.
"All the same, Andrea's right. You should not let him talk to you like that," Lori backed up Andrea's point that had opened up after Daryl's outburst.
"If you don't want to say anything to him, I will if you want," offered Andrea.
"If you don't, I will. Daryl needs to learn-" Lori began.
Carol held up her hand to interrupt Lori, when she saw the proceedings over by the tin cans.
"What happened?" She asked, kneeling down by Sophia.
"It's not a good day," Sophia answered in hushed voice.
She didn't mean it in the way it was used in everyday conversation. It was code. It meant there's too much noise, too many people, too much I can't control and I cannot handle it.
Carol accepted the band aids from Carl and took Sophia into their tent. The isolation decreased the panic almost immediately from Sophia's eyes. She teared up a little at the sting of antiseptic but her mom was really quick about it.
"Daryl told me you were pretty far from camp." Regardless of what happened, Carol had to address the current problem. "What were you thinking?"
"I wasn't," Sophia mumbled, picking at the edge of tape.
"I'll say you weren't. You of all people should know better," said Carol. "Not tonight, but tomorrow, you're going to do the dishes ok?"
Carol wrapped her arms around Sophia and curled up with her on the cot. She kissed her head. "I can't lose you again, Roo. My heart couldn't take it."
"I'm sorry."
But Roo's gone.
"Can I sit?" Carol asked Daryl, who had retreated behind his tent.
Ten days ago, she would not have noticed how dejected he looked as he pulled feathers off one of his catches.
While Carol had been tending to Sophia, Lori and Andrea had tuned him in on the way he had spoke to Carol. Their hearts were in the right place but what they had failed to consider was, that in high strung way of his, so was Daryl's. He had only been trying to help. She hated having Daryl think he had done something wrong.
Carol watched him plucked the feathers off the grouse. She saw that there was no special technique to it and picked up the second one and started ripping out the feathers.
"Careful with the flight feathers. I'm gonna try and make some arrows," said Daryl quietly. He only
"Thanks for telling me about Sophia." Carol said, "I don't know what got in to her, wandering that far, it isn't like her."
Carol had seen her daughter grab the ice cream bucket and go over to the trees but didn't think it was anything to worry about.
"Yeah, I was surprised to see her out there. She normally sticks pretty close to you."
Hearing him say that was comforting assurance she wasn't a neglectful mother.
"Does Sophia have OCD?" asked Daryl.
Carol's soft features hardened and her fingers picked downy feather off the grouse's breast one at a time as she contemplated what to say. Given her breakdown an hour ago, Carol suspected that she might be addressing this more and more. It would be good if she had an answer. "
"Ain't my place to ask, was just wondering," Daryl semi-apologized when she didn't respond.
"No, no, it's alright." She gave him a reassuring smile while cursing Lori and Andrea for making him so gun shy.
"Sophia has a hard time dealing with stress and it gives her OCD tendencies."
Daryl's hand froze in the middle of stripping the bird's wing. I don't really get it.
"Sophia's like a car that's alarm goes off when it's bumped or in large clap of thunder. How she tries to turn off that alarm off is by distracting herself, normally through organizing something as you saw at the woodpile. She can get stressed out if something's out of order because she connects orderly with being calm. But it's not full blown OCD because it's not a constant tripper of that alarm."
Daryl nodded and went back to plucking feathers. He was by no means a fast learner, especially when there was no physical repercussion, but Carol's explanation helped him wrap his head around it.
"She's always been that way. I rarely ever had to tell her to clean her room. All her toys had a specific place."
A memory of Sophia's bedroom flashed through Carol's head. At the end of everyday, right before bedtime, Sophia would put everything she had played with back. All the stuffies sat on the end of her bed, organized according to what plushy animal were friends and they took turns sleeping up by Sophia. Storybooks were lined up in the bookcase, held up at the end by an angel figurine. The dolls in the dollhouse were tucked in to their beds, the mom doll would be in the nursery with the baby in her arms.
"I should've been worried about her behavior from the start, I just thought it was because I was neat freak. My mother was and it rubbed off on me and my sister, Jane, not my youngest sister, Rachel though. She was the black sheep." Carol kept talking while they worked away.
"It got really bad when she was about eight years old. Sophia got to the point she could hardly function. I used to get almost daily phone calls from the school telling me to come get her because she having panic attacks."
The memory of her two younger sisters faded to a memory of a young Sophia resting her head against the window in the rearview mirror of the Cherokee. She was absolutely drained by whatever was going on inside her head that she frustratingly couldn't explain because in her youth she didn't have the words to.
"Our doctor told me, it might help if I put her into an after school activity. We tried Brownies for about two weeks, but it was too much like school, too much chaos. So I put her in ballet. It was the perfect outlet for her because it's so structured and requires a lot of concentration, could tire her out," Carol continued, "it began flaring up again right before all of this. I've been thinking maybe it's her age, starting to get in to puberty. I'm really worried about her with the way we're living now. Sophia can barely cope with it and I don't know what to do, feels like I can't do anything."
Life with Ed made Carol feel constantly powerless but in that situation she could handle it. But being powerless when it came to her daughter was unbearable.
"The past two days have been good," Daryl said tentatively.
He didn't know what constituted a good day for Sophia but after the woodpile he watched her as often as he could. He didn't see her have any sort of freak out which had confused him as he thought these compulsions of hers should be constant.
It was coincidence that he phrased close to her and Sophia's code, like he understood. Carol felt a sense of relief even though nothing had changed except that she kind spilled her guts to Daryl.
It was hard to think much of Daryl when the Dixons rolled into the quarry, not with the way his brother was. But getting to know him, the way he stepped up to find Sophia. Carol's view of him had done a one eighty.
"Hey Daryl," Carol rested her hand on his knee, "I really appreciate you looking out for her."
"That's what we do, ain't it?"
"In that case, can you help me put the cover back on our tent? I took it off to air it out and can't get it back on,"
"Yep."
When they were both holding naked birds, that looked more like aliens than birds. They went over to the Peletier's tent, which was only a stones throw from Daryl's.
With Sophia back, it became too crowded in the RV so the two of them moved out to a tent. He came close to asking Carol if they wanted to bunk in with him. He had more than enough room for the two girls. There were a number of reasons why he didn't.
One, he'd have to physically get the words out and he couldn't do it. Two, Carol would decline and then he'd feel damn stupid. Third, Sophia wouldn't be able to handle it.
Not only was he a guy, he could be a messy guy. The kid would have an aneurysm sharing a tent with him.
"Here." Daryl held out the photo that he had taken to remind Shane and anyone else who they had lost. "Meant to put it back but forgot."
Forgot for three days but you've been carrying it around your pocket? By some miracle Carol managed to keep her eyebrows level.
"Do you want to keep it?" She asked.
Daryl did have an odd attachment to the photo because of what it symbolized. It was like a postcard of the quite possible the best thing he had ever done in his life, which was save the girl in the photo.
"I want you to keep it," said Carol.
For all it's danger, the forest felt tranquil with the sun filtering through the trees in a thick, almost touchable golden light.
"Remember that place out by Mamaw's and Papaw's?" asked Sophia, once again picking berries. She was trying to be
Since she hadn't found many blueberries, Carol offered to go with her after dinner along the trees to find some more. Daryl wasn't about to let them go off alone. He ended up guiding them into the forest to a patch he'd seen earlier.
"Oh yes," answered Carol. "Remember the sasquatches?"
"Yes."
The lack of berries wasn't the reason Carol offered to go out. Sophia was still looking pretty anxious.
Sophia didn't mind Daryl being with them but she was too scared to make eye contact with him.
"We use to go out to this farm outside of Dawsonville and we told Sophia that if she didn't stay close that sasquatches would carry her off. We were more worried about bears but if we told her there were bears, she'd go looking for them," explained Carol.
The bucket had gotten to be a quarter full in no time, even with Sophia and Daryl eating half of their find, staining their tongues and teeth blue.
The sound of undergrowth being trampled spooked them. Carol grabbed Sophia, who was in the middle of hiding behind her. Daryl got in front of both of them with the crossbow raised.
"Good news. It ain't a sasquatch," said Daryl, lowering the crossbow.
The Greene's horses were out grazing in one of their farthest fields. (Rick had kept his word on not going far.) Four of them were up near the fence. They eyed up the human arrivals with their ears perked up with interest before going back to chomping on the grass. Sophia pulled up long stalks of grass by the fence and fed one, petting it's neck as it tugged the stalks out of her hand.
"Mummy, look," Sophia pointed out into the pasture. "See that brown one, he's kind of got black socks. That's Memphis. That's the one we rode back."
Sophia tried her best to give her next bushel to a shyer horse that kept getting chased off by another. Carol pulled some stalks and led the brash one away. Daryl stowed the crossbow on his back and followed suit.
"Fuck off, Nellie. Me and you ain't friends," said Daryl as a familiar horse face came up to say hi and take the grass from his hand.
"What's this ones name?" asked Sophia, feeding one with a white stripe.
"I only know Nellie and Memphis."
They longer they stayed by the fence, the more horses they attracted to them except for a few, including Memphis who a few yards away. Sophia was trying to get him to come over.
"Sophia," Daryl held the wires apart. "Go on, they ain't gonna eat ya."
She hesitated for half second then Sophia climbed through the gap. It felt weird to be on the same side as the horses. They seemed so much bigger. It was kind of scary. The overly friendly Nellie walked right behind her as she walked through the field. Feeing Nellie's breath and presence behind, Sophia turned around. Nellie jerked back, Sophia startled at the beasts very sudden movement, then laughed it off.
You and me got something in common. Sophia thought.
"I got it," Carol placed her hands between the barbs knowingly from her rural childhood. "You're gonna get tangled in the fence."
Daryl took off the crossbow and dropped it on the other side of the fence. An inquisitive horse sniffed at it, and pulled at the strap, spooking itself when the crossbow moved toward it.
"Ladies first," countered Daryl.
Carol took his offer and carefully went through the wires.
Sophia walked up to Memphis. He remained still when she reached out to stroke his soft nose. Timidly, Sophia moved in closer to him, Memphis reciprocated by lowering his head to hers.
It was the first time in a long time that Carol saw Sophia completely drop her guard as she became solely focused on the horse.
Daryl watched Carol and Sophia mingle in the small herd of horses.
There was something about the two that had drawn him in before Sophia went missing. He tended to think of women as belonging to two categories. There were the ones that were higher up in the world with picket fences or professional jobs, like Lori and Andrea, then there were the ones is his realm, the loud ones that Merle picked up. Carol didn't fit either. Then there was the way she was so protective of Sophia, always holding her close.
They had to be the most vulnerable people in camp. Everyone else could shoot or were with someone who could. These two were largely on their own.
Carol and Sophia needed him. He liked that.
Author's Note:
Woot new chapter and cover.
Thanks so much for the kind words and thoughtful responses, all of you are so intuitive and love hearing your thoughts. Guest, Chemical Ghost, nblkolt, Kountry101, piratejessieswaby, sammyjase, Lord-Cas, Emberka-2012, Guest, Ihasabukkit, Rising Phoenix416, sonshinedaisy, Nat, Surplus Imagination, Amethiste.
I'm having a lot of fun playing with the minds of everyone here.
Break time (from school) and FBI has begun earlier than expected. Full dets on my page.