I sat on the ground, my knees to my chest. Tears ran down my cheeks in streams. Nothing felt real. Nothing felt true. Must be a dream... Must be some twisted, sick dream. Wake up and go check on Chy... Not a dream, SPENCER, IT'S NOT A DREAM! SHE'S DEAD! SHE'S GONE! GONE, GONE, GONE. Dead... Dead...
"Oh, GOOOOODDDD!" I screamed through my tears, as I began to rock myself back and forth. Pinch yourself, it's just a sick nightmare. Without lifting my head, I pinched my own arm. The sting set in the same harsh reality I was already trying to face. I didn't realize that my fingernails were digging into my arm, until I felt a wet, sticky substance under my fingers. Looking down at the blood, I let out another agonizing scream.
Thoughts of Cheyenne poured into my head. The gun aimed at her pretty little doll like face. I couldn't pull the trigger, and when she had flinched, it was like a sign of life. Even though I knew it wasn't the life she wanted, I wanted it to be the life I needed. I just wanted her to be alive, be okay. Come back.
But instead, Daryl had come to the rescue, as always. He was always the one to take over the tough work for the weak. I couldn't let him take the gun, because I had promised. But I also couldn't shoot her alone, either. Daryl knew that. He knew that we needed him. We had always needed him.
"Spencer?" His voice caused my stomach to wrench, and I jumped to my feet.
"HOW COULD YOU?" I screamed. "HOW COULD YOU LET HER GET BIT?"
"Spencer-" Daryl stepped toward me, but I stepped back.
"NO! No, no, no! We failed! I FAILED! AT EVERYTHING! I FUCKED UP! I let her go... I let her down.. I killed her." Suddenly, I couldn't hang on any more. My knees buckled, and I just sat on the ground with a plop. Daryl was at my side in an instant.
"I... It ain't your fault." Daryl's voice was weak, something I'd never been familiar with. Forcing myself to look up at him, I saw his blue eyes were watery. I couldn't speak, but the realization of her death just took it's toll and I felt as if my heart had been ripped out. Something inside of me snapped.
"Daryl? Help me up?" I asked calmly, wiping my tears away with the back of my bloody hand. He stood up and reached out for my hand. I took it and he pulled me to my feet. Wiping my face again, I looked up at him. "We need to go... My screaming probably drew some walkers nearby."
"And... Chy?" Daryl looked at me. Fighting tears, I bit the inside of my mouth hard before replying.
"We'll bury her. Here. Quick. Get Hershel, he can say what everyone needs to hear." I explained numbly. "Then we should go."
"Gonna take a while. Ground's hard." Daryl watched my eyes.
"I know." I nodded and walked back toward the house without looking back. Ignoring the others, I walked past eyes to the bedroom where Cheyenne was lying on the bed. Trying not to look at the blood splattered on the wall, trying not to look at the bullet hole in her head, I sat down on the bed beside her and grabbed her hand.
"I'm so sorry, baby girl." I whispered, touching her cheek. Her skin was already cool to the touch. Tears fell from my eyes. "Shoulda grabbed you, but I couldn't... Why'd you run off? Yellin' was enough. Lori and Rick had him. I... I-I'm so s-sorry, Ch-Cheyenne."
I hung my head, and tried to stop myself from having another emotional break down. Feeling as if my lungs had quit working, I took a deep breath, just as Carol entered the room. Saying nothing, she walked over to where I was sitting and touched my shoulder. I wanted to jerk away, but only flinched at the human contact.
"I can't say anything to ease your pain. Because no one could ease mine." Carol said quietly. Her hand slipped off of my shoulder and she walked around the bed. My eyes caught her hands grabbing the white sheets as she began pulling them up closer to Cheyenne's face.
"No!" My hand shot out and grabbed her arm. She looked at me in shock, letting go of the sheet. "I-I'm sorry... It's just... I'll do it."
"Of course." Carol's voice was soft. She touched Cheyenne's face and looked at me. "I'll leave you alone for a bit." Her voice was understanding as she walked away from me.
Taking in a deep breath, I grabbed the sheet, but didn't move. I heard voices outside of the door, Daryl and Carol were having a disagreement about me needing to be left alone. Then it was quiet, and I felt someone in the room with me. Footsteps came closer and a hand slid over mine, guiding the sheet up and over Cheyenne's face.
"You ain't gotta do this alone." Daryl whispered, and I leaned back into his frame.
"But I do." I whispered back, stepping away from him and walking to the doorway. "Everyone ready?"
"Let's clean you up first." He said quietly, gently pulling me up from the bed. I was silent as I allowed him to lead me away from Cheyenne's body and into the bathroom. He shuffled through the cabinets until he found a cloth. Pouring water from a water bottle, he wiped my cheek and the side of my face softly, rubbing the blood off of my skin. I stared at him blankly as he did so, not even really seeing him. I kept seeing Cheyenne lying on the bed. Dead. "Hey," Daryl's voice rang through my ears, "look at me, Spence."
I looked up at him, my eyes locking onto his. "Yea?"
"Ain't gotta do this alone." He repeated, tossing the cloth under the cabinet. He leaned down to me, kissing the side of my head, before leaving the bathroom. "I'll carry her." Daryl made the statement firmly as we stepped back into the bedroom, and I mentally decided that was for the best.
Daryl stepped toward the bed and I watched as he hesitated for a moment. He stared down at the small frame of the little girl who used to be, who was now a small dead body underneath a white sheet. Leaning down, he carefully tucked the sheet around her dead body and lifted her from the bed. Daryl held her like a baby, being very gentle with her limp body.
My eyes caught the aftermath of the gunshot to her head on the wall, and I looked away quickly. Following Daryl, I shut the door to the bedroom and continued behind him down the hallway. Through the house, to the back door, outside in the back yard. Eyes watched as Daryl lowered Cheyenne's wrapped body into the small grave. I looked away as Daryl and Rick began shoveling dirt over her body, which seemed to take an eternity.
Shovel dirt, throw it on her body. It was a repeat process in which I had made myself finally look, and then couldn't pull my eyes away. Memories of Sophia's burial came into my head, only this time, I wasn't the one behind the shovel. Now someone else knew what it felt like to watch dirt fall over a tiny body. And now someone else knew what it felt like to lose a child. Rick's words, "She's yours now." Those words floated through my head for so long, and now what was mine was gone.
"Spencer asked me to speak on behalf of Cheyenne, and I shall do so." Hershel started, his voice shaky. "I can't begin to understand why little Cheyenne had to suffer at the hands of this sickenin' disease that has been plagued upon us. She was a sweet and innocent soul, someone who brought life into a dead world. Cheyenne was a blessin' to all who she touched and we are all grateful to have spent time with her in this world. As we are also saddened by the loss of a child we were connected to. Connected to on a personal level, she was a child to us all. I cannot even begin to think of words to give Spencer and Daryl any sliver of comfort, but I felt these words would be the best for little Cheyenne. Matthew 19:14 'But Jesus said, Suffer little children and forbid them not, to come unto me: for of such is the kingdom of Heaven.' Amen."
Tears slipped over the edges of my eyes as I stared down at her grave, Hershel's words running thick through my head. Things weren't settled with me yet. Everything was happening too fast and I couldn't get my mind on the track to slow down for a second and process what had happened. What was happening. And that was probably a good thing.
Carl walked over to the mound of dirt and placed two smooth rocks on top. Tilting my head slightly, I watched as he looked down at the grave. It broke my heart even more when I realized that now he was all alone, too. He had lost his best friend. He lost Sophia, and now he had lost Cheyenne, too. Something in his eyes looked broken.
Not being able to watch anymore, I slipped away back to the house. I felt the pressure of everything weighing on me all at once. While it seemed as if my mind was in a thousand places, I couldn't get one thought in. I was a blank page, with no hope of writing any time soon. Walking into an empty bedroom, I sat down on the bed and looked out of the window.
"Spencer?" Carl's voice pierced my thoughts, and I looked up to see the boy in the doorway. Not saying a word, I just sat still as he walked over and sat down beside me. He looked at me and leaned over to me, putting his arm around my back. I lifted my arm around his shoulder and hugged him.
I wasn't sure which of us started to cry first, but we both just sat on the bed crying together. Crying for the loss of a baby and a friend. I understood his pain and he understood mine. Or maybe we didn't understand, but accepted each other's pain. I couldn't turn Carl away knowing he was hurting. After a few minutes, Rick appeared in the doorway, his eyes sad.
Rick said nothing as I rubbed Carl's back and he wiped his eyes. Finally he stood and walked to his father, not saying anything else. Rick gave me a look, caught somewhere between sadness and agony. He was our leader and he had to fix everything. But he couldn't fix this and that broke him.
"Rick?" My voice croaked out his name.
"Yeah?" He stepped halfway into the room.
"Can you shut the door?" I asked blankly.
"Sure thing." He said quietly, stepping back into the hall and shutting the door behind him. Laying down on the cold bed, I stared at the window blankly.
Everything began to hit me at once. Cheyenne was gone, dead. We buried her in a little hole in a vacant back yard. No headstone, no mark to show she was ever here. Just a mound of dirt with two rocks set on top. We would move on in the morning, or even sooner if walkers came, and this place would be long forgotten. I didn't even know where we were. Just an abandoned house in the middle of somewhere.
Cheyenne was gone. What would I do now? She had been my main reason for pushing on. Ever since that day I awoke in the apartment and Shay had rushed into the door with Kevin, my main priority had been to protect Cheyenne. Do what's best for Cheyenne. Maybe I hadn't always made the best decisions, but I had done what I felt was right. That was the influence I wanted to be on Cheyenne. That was the example I had wanted to set for her.
And now none of that mattered. Every decision I had made. Everything I had sacrificed. Everything I had fought so hard for... Gone. Gone in an instant. I had tried so hard to protect her. I had lost Shay, but still had Cheyenne and that kept me going. Now I had lost the little girl that I had tried so hard to protect.
Tears didn't fall at my thoughts. I wondered if I was all cried out. Something wiped through me and I felt exhausted. Looking up at the window, I wished for two things. I wished that I would wake up to all of this being nothing but a horrible nightmare. And I wished that I had Daryl by my side. That brought something that resembled comfort for me, and that was all I thought about as I drifted off to sleep.
I awoke with a start. A loud noise had made me jump from my sleep. Looking around, I couldn't see anything in the dark room. Just as my eyes were getting adjusted, a bright flash lit up the whole room, soon followed by a loud rumble. I shivered and looked around the room. Empty.
Cheyenne? Dead. The realization that I wasn't waking from a horrible dream dawned on me. Wait! She might be sleepin' in another room. Jumping from the bed, I moved quickly to the door, flinging it open. Looking into the closest bedroom, I saw Lori asleep. Turning away, I walked quickly over to the next doorway. Carl was asleep on the bed, but Cheyenne was not there. She was nowhere in sight.
Knowing the awful truth, I ran away from the doorway and ran to the back door. I ran outside into the back yard, and when the lightening lit up the sky, I saw the mound of dirt. But something else caught my eye. A wooden cross. I only caught a glimpse of it, but I saw it. I ran over to the grave and dropped to my knees.
The next flash lasted a few seconds longer and I saw the wood. 'Cheyenne' was carved into the cross. Laying my head on the fresh, cold dirt, I began to cry. I laid on the ground on top of her grave, my tears turning cold as they ran down my face. When it began to drizzle, I barely even noticed. My mind went elsewhere. To the days before the dead rose. To the days before my life went to hell.
"Spencerrrrrr! I want ice cweam!" Cheyenne grinned up at me as the music flooded our ears. The ice cream truck was making its usual run through the park.
"What kind?" I looked down at the small child, already knowing the answer.
"Choc-late." Cheyenne tried her best to say it correctly.
"That's my girl. Come on." I grabbed her hand and we walked toward the edge of the park parking lot to wait for the ice cream truck.
"Spencer?" Rick's voice flooded through my ears. I was shivering as rain poured over me. Cold.. So cold. "DARYL! Over here!" Away...slip away.
I skated over to where Cheyenne had fallen. Her face was contorted in a pout, but I knew she wasn't hurt. Just upset that skating wasn't as easy at it looked. Holding out my hand, she grabbed it and I helped her up. I tilted my head and raised an eyebrow.
"Gonna let me help you now?" I asked. Cheyenne narrowed her eyes.
"Fine. But don't lemme fall, please." Cheyenne's eyes widened a bit. I giggled.
"I ain't gonna let you fall."
"Gotta get her inside!" Daryl's voice drifted through my ears and I felt myself being lifted. I lashed out, trying to stop it, but I barely even lifted my arm. My teeth were chattering and I was so cold. Strong arms carried me away from the rain, and suddenly I wasn't being pelted by the cold rain drops anymore.
"Build a fire, get her undressed." Hershel's voice, so full of concern. And for what? "Get under the covers with her, it's the only way to get her warmed up fast enough. She's goin' into shock. Her lips are blue... Everyone, OUT! Daryl just try to get her body temperature back to normal. When you've got her covered up, I'll bring her some water."
I felt hands on me, and my wet clothes were being peeled away. Cold... Everything was so cold. Except those hands, they were warm. They were Daryl. I wasn't sure if I was dreaming or if I was alive. Or if I was going to die. I could welcome that. If it would lead me to Cheyenne, I would welcome death. But something was warm against my back, and suddenly I was covered in...a blanket? It felt so warm, despite my shivering.
"Daryl?" I croaked barely above a whisper. It had to be him. His skin was warm and I could feel his heart beat against my back.
"I'm here." Daryl said quietly against my ear. Still shivering, I embraced the warmth of his body, as it began to shun away the cold. Slipping into an unconscious state, I found myself in a dark place. Trapped inside my own mind.
Poor Spencer an Daryl.. So sad. I am really heart broken about Cheyenne's death. I didn't think it would bother me as much as it did. I think now I do have some understanding of how it feels to have to write off (or kill off) a character. My dreams are to be a writer one day, so I guess getting myself used to this now is a good thing... But it's still sad.
I feel awful for the things that Spencer is going through. And I know it seems like for a minute she gets her head on straight, but it's actually just her snapping into some sort of deep painful state. Things will get worse. Darker. Hopefully the 3rd season will come to me soon enough so I can get that part rolling along. Thanks again to my amazing REVIEWERS and READERS ! You all make this all worth writing.
Oh, and I hope I did okay on Hershel's speech. I tried to keep it in Hershel's character, while making it sad as well. Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, and thanks again to my lovely supporters !
~Kaila