"I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity."
― Edgar Allan Poe
...
Carol eased beside Rick. Finger foods were being offered along with beverages. Rick found it a very curious thing that the table with the offerings were being served at the meeting. It usually was coffee. Just coffee.
"Daryl's not here." Carol whispered.
Rick found it curious that Carol presented him with this information. He didn't know why he would care about Daryl. He only cared about one person. Michonne.
"She has been coming to every meeting now."
"Who?"
"Sasha."
Rick found it curious that Carol presented him with this information. He didn't know why he would care about Sasha. He only cared about the woman who was watching him with a quizzical look. Her hands were on her hip. Michonne. He will be accused of flirting or desiring Carol when they got out of the meeting, he was prepared for the confrontation they would have in the pickup truck.
"That arrogant son of a bitch blocked Daryl's entrance. Some unsavory types threw Daryl into a van. I tried to tell Sasha but she isn't listening. She's not hearing me. You haven't noticed the vacant seat next to her? Sasha keeps telling the same story with no variation. I don't think she remembers. I think she is just a parrot. Have you noticed?" Carol was persistent.
"Can't say I have noticed...I missed two meetings in a row." Rick glanced at Carol to see if he could read her. He couldn't.
"I come here every time. You have. Michonne have. We come because they keep calling us to come." Carol handed Rick a small plate hoping that would prompt him to decide on ham, mayonnaise with cheese or peanut butter triangles.
Rick was sincerely confused on what Carol was telling him. He had missed meetings. He knew that for certain. Missed meetings meant lovemaking. He remembered that. He knew that. Carol had to be crazy. The lady that meant to kill her dog when she meant to kill her husband was nuts.
Michonne was becoming annoyed and found a seat that would have her across from Rick in the circle. She was pissed and the swell of pissivity was increasing as she watched Rick interaction with Carol. She counted two peanut butter sandwiches that he placed on his small plate. The smell of peanut butter was overwhelming to her senses. She tried to fight the desire to become less lucid.
"Who's calling us?" Rick asked.
"Sofia calls for me. Andre calls for Michonne. Carl calls for you." Carol followed Rick to the seating.
Rick felt a jolt at the sound. A memory. Uncertainty. He was yet again on the brink.
...
"What's going on, Dad? Are you okay?" Carl face was full of concern.
"I don't have time for this Shit. I have somewhere to be." Rick paced back and forth in the open garage. "I want to fucking kill your mother sometimes. She fucking hid my damn keys. I have somewhere to be. I am going to be late. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." Rick kicked the tires to his pickup truck.
"Where are you trying to go? Maybe I can help you get there." Carl offered his father who was in a controlled rage.
"Carl..." The offer caused Rick to pause, a solution he did not think to entertain. Carl had his own car and was visiting for the day. He was on break from school. He was only visiting for the day. It was the time he would leave to beat the night when heading back to his dorm in Atlanta.
"I have time, Dad. I can drop you off or wait for you."
"You need to get back to college. Your mother doesn't like you driving at night."
"This seems important to you. Let me help you."
Rick barely could grasp the magnitude of this revelation, "Let me help you...Let me help you."
...
Carol was sitting next to him in the circle caressing the length of his arm from his shoulder, down to his wrist. Rick was barely holding on to his plate. The touch did not faze him. He was fully aware of not being completely present. He was in-between states and the unknown caused fear. The tiny sandwiches became even more unappetizing. Peanut butter.'
The smell of peanut butter caused Michonne's mind to cloud and then. Fog began breaking a way. A door amongst many doors along a wall. She stood in front of one. She opened. She stood in a room and found bits and pieces of clarity swirling about her eyes, within her mind. Fragments. So many fragments. Insanity cloaked in brief glimpses of sanity.
Michonne felt the jolt. This wasn't an introduction nor a re-introduction. This was a revelation that made absolutely no sense. A big memory caused her to tremble. The magnitude caused her to shudder in such a way that she knew for sure in the end she would lose all consciousness. "Rick."
...
"Please let me get a signal. Please. Oh God please let me get a signal." Michonne sat in her car inside of a parking garage. She was unable to call Rick to cancel their rendezvous. Her phone would not send the message that she typed telling Rick that her husband had followed her there. She had no way of contacting him as she eyed her husband who thought he was being inconspicuous on the other side of the garage.
Michonne began to reverse her vehicle out of the spot when her white Mercedes was rammed in on the passenger side by another vehicle. BAM. Michonne pulled forward and put her car back in park once the car that hit her reversed. The other car was intent on ramming her again. "What the hell?" It was Lori.
...
This moment they were experiencing in tandem, Rick and Michonne. Michonne and Rick.
...
Lori shot Michonne dead right there in the parking garage. She stood over her body, reloaded and shot some more. Close range. Rick didn't wait, he jumped from the slowly moving car that Carl was driving and ran to where Michonne lie in a pool of her own blood.
"What the hell, Lori?" Shane exited the vehicle, the enormity of the situation wasn't lost on him.
Lori without thought, turned and shot Shane. The bullet pierced his skull and ricochet and lodged in Mike's throat who had covered the distance from his parked vehicle to come to Michonne's aid. He was struck down by chance not by a specific aim.
Lori reloaded. She was slightly startled to see her son standing not to far away, standing outside of his car with Rick rushing up frantic.
"Michonne. Michonne. Michonne." Rick fell to his knees in the pool of blood, his blue jeans became the color of deep, dark hues of red, the blood soaked his clothing as he began to scoop her in his arms. He didn't notice that Michonne's body was riddled with bullets. He wasn't aware that a bullet went through his temple and that Lori had the gun under her very own chin.
He was at the bottom of a grave. The dreadlock lunatic knocked him in the freshly dug resting spot for calling her a beast of the southern wild.
"I don't know who the fuck you are, but don't fuck with me." Michonne threatened outside the mortuary where the living took place.
"Are you fucking crazy? Pushing me in a Goddamn hole? I could have been injured." Rick stood up not bothering dusting himself off as he squared off with the woman standing above him who was intent on glaring down at him.
"That was the plan, you dirty ass redneck mutherfucker!" Michonne kicked dirt into the hole and Rick closed his eyes in time. He inhaled the sulfur of the earth as it dusted and perfumed around him.
"Help me the fuck out of here." Rick demanded.
"No. This Medusa ain't helping you with shit. You pale face bastard."
"When I get out of here I am going to fucking bury your crazy black ass alive. I promise you, whatever the fuck your name is."
"My name is Michonne, you simple ass bastard."
"My name is Rick, you crazy ass psycho bit-."
Michonne took a shovel and hit him squarely on the side of the head with enough force to knock him out.
...
A/N:
Still reshaping this chapter. Bare with me. Trying to provide ass much clarity as possible on what's going on with less words. LOL
