I was on watch. I was by the front gate, up on the tower, just watching. Looking out for walkers... For saviours. Sophia went out with Rick to look for supplies, Michonne went out... To do Michonne stuff, Carl had followed after Enid in a car. I wanted to go with, but I couldn't risk leaving my post and I couldn't find anyone to cover me in time. The saviours had stolen most of our mattresses, for some reason. I'm not sure why. They didn't take our food, or my chickens, but they took all our guns, some furniture and most of our mattresses. They left mine and Sophia's, but we gave ours to Mr and Mrs Cook, because they're old and can't sleep on just blankets.

I heard a noise to my left and saw Rosita coming up. "I'm here to relieve you." She smiled.

I let out a breath. "Thank god. I've been looking at the same thing for so damn long I was just hoping a walker would come by or something."

Rosita let a grin take over her face. When I went to walk past, she gently touched me shoulder so I moved back to my space. "I need to talk to you about something."

"What's that?" I asked.

She cleared her throat. "I know you saw me looking at two people who were with the saviours."

I nodded. "Their names are Megan and Carlos. How do you know them?"

Rosita gently reached out and ran a hand through my hair. She sighed, before taking her hand back, she bit her bottom lip slightly, before speaking. "Megan is Carlos' daughter... She's our auntie. Or, half auntie... Carlos is our abuelo. My mum and Isabella's father."

I raised my eyebrows in shock. "What?"

"I know. It took me by surprise too. I mean, I assumed he was dead. I hadn't seen him since I was ten. Last time I saw Megan, when I was ten, she was... Four, maybe five." Rosita told me.

I let out a breath. "So, the only biological family we have left is at the Sanctuary with Negan."

"I wouldn't call them family. But, I thought you had the right to know." Rosita nodded. "Did they talk to you? At the sanctuary?"

"Uh... Yea. Yea, they did. Didn't tell me the truth though, obviously. He said that he saw me and you that night, but I didn't know how he knew us. I didn't really care either... But, now..." I trailed off.

"I'm not sure how he recognised me. I haven't seen them in nearly two decades. You never met them. We owe them nothing. They are not are family. Rick, Michonne, Maggie, Glenn, Sophia, Daryl, Carol and all the others... They're our family now. Not Carlos or Megan. If she's anything like her father, we don't want to know either of them. Trust me." Rosita explained.

"They didn't want to be there-" I started.

"They're working with Negan. You saw them. They're not these supposedly innocent workers. They're apart of the reason that Abraham and Aaron are dead. Blood or not, they aren't family." Rosita stated.

I nodded. "Got it."

Rosita put her hand on my shoulder. "I love you, mi amor. You have got to know that, okay?"

I let a soft smile pull at my lips. "I know. I love you."

She patted my head. "Now go take a break."

I laughed, before doing as she said. I walked back home and closed the front door behind me. Rosita was currently the only other person in Alexandria who lived in the house with me, so for the first time for a while... I was home alone. I slowly climbed the stairs and went into my father's bedroom. His mattress was missing, but the rest of his stuff was there. I closed the door behind me and leaned against it for a couple beats.

I took a breath before walking over to my father's duffel bag by the wardrobe he wasn't using. I slowly unzipped it and pulled out the first thing I could grab. I pulled it to my face and took in his scent. It may be creepy to some, to most no doubt, but I missed my dad. He felt like home, so being able to smell him made me feel a little better.

I looked at the red and black flannel I had grabbed, and put it on. He doesn't wear it anyways, he just grabbed it one day from an abandoned store cause he thought he might wear it. He didn't. However, since it had been mixed up with all his other dirty clothes, it still smelt like him. I rolled up and cuffed the sleeves so they actually fit. I pulled the fabric together and tied it at the front, just  above my jeans so that it fit me better. I smiled to myself.

I reached into his bag again and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. I bit my bottom lip before reaching into his bag and finding his lighter. I sat and leaned against the wall, opening the pack, putting one of them in my mouth. I brought the lighter up and lit the end. I'd seen Isabella do it plenty of times, I knew what to do. I inhaled the smoke once I put the cigarette down and instantly started coughing.

After a couple more puffs of the cancer stick, I got used to it. It wasn't particularly nice, but I needed something to take the edge off. I went back into my father's bag and found a can of beer. I leaned my head against the wall as I stared at the can. On one hand, alcoholism ran in both sides of my biological family... On the other hand: I was alone, my mother had abandoned us, my dad was being held hostage, my ex P.E teacher killed a man I saw as a brother, he then murdered Aaron who I viewed as a close friend, my grandfather and auntie were working with the saviours and my best friend was Ben freaking Tanner. I clicked open the can and very quickly took a big swig. Honestly, it was disgusting and burned my throat a little... But that didn't stop me from taking another sip. And another. And another. Until I fell asleep on the floor in my father's room.

I was being shaken. I jumped, but then groaned, slowly rubbing my eyes. I knew I had a nightmare, but I couldn't remember it. "What the hell?" I groaned.

"You're asking what the hell?" Rosita shouted. She was kneeling to my side.

I hummed, looking up at her. Then down to the half smoked cigarette bud and empty can of beer. "Ah, crap." I muttered.

"What did you do to yourself?" She asked, pulling me to sit up against the wall.

"I drank myself to sleep. And people say I'm not like my mother." I laughed quietly at my own joke, putting my hand on my head to try and sooth my migraine. 

"Ellie, you are ten years old." Rosita reminded me.

Tears pricked my eyes as I nodded, resting my head against the wall and letting my hands drop away. "Yea, I know." I whispered.

"I don't think you do." She shook her head. Picking up the can and the bud. "This? This is more likely to kill you than walkers. You can handle walkers, I know you can. You can't handle this. What would your parents think?"

I scoffed. "Seriously? We're pulling that card? Well, let me think. Isabella was mauled after trying to kill me. Dad's being held hostage. Mum got up and left in the middle of the night. Rick is out looking for shit to give to Negan. Michonne's out hunting, but we all know that shit will end up as Negan's as well. Maggie's faking her death and Glenn's with her in the Hilltop. Abraham was brutally murdered by my ex P.E teacher. I know damn well what you think." I ranted.

"I know you've been through a lot-" Rosita started.

"Don't give me the "it gets better" crap because I know it won't. It's only a matter of time before we can't supply enough for Negan and he starts killing more of us. I just don't wanna do it anymore, Rosita. I don't wanna..." I trailed off. "I just can't."

Rosita shook her head. "You don't get to do that! You don't get to check out!"

"I had my chance to check out after the prison! After I got separated from Sophia! When I thought that I was the only one left! I could've done it then, but I didn't! I'm not gonna kill myself, Rosita, I just don't want to feel like this anymore!" I shouted, letting the anger and the pain take over me as tears rolled down my face. I took a deep breath. "Please, don't tell anyone. Please. It won't happen again... I just needed the pain to go away."

Rosita quickly pulled me into a hug as I cried into her chest. Her left hand was on the back of my head while her right run soothingly up and down my back. "I have to tell Rick and Michonne." She stated, this made a sob rip from my throat. "I know, mi amor. I'm sorry. You've been so strong for so long. I'm so proud of you. I'm so proud... We all stumble sometimes, and that's okay... But you can't do shit like this. It's not safe for someone your age. Especially with all the addiction problems that run in our family, okay? You just can't touch that stuff. Promise me that you won't do it again. I'm serious, okay? This shit will get you killed."

I nodded. "I'm sorry."

"Promise me." Rosita pulled back, holding my face in her hands as she stared at me intently. "You can't do this again. And, if you feel like you're going to, come talk to me. I won't get mad. I promise. I need you to promise me, that you will not touch either of those things again."

I bit my bottom lip. "I promise."

She let out a breath and looked down, before looking back up to me. "Go take a cold shower. It'll help with the hangover. I'll make you some food." Rosita leaned forward and kissed my forehead.

I wiped my tears before getting up to go do what she said. As I stood under the icy cold waters, I realised Rosita was right. What I did was stupid. But, I knew that if things carried on how they were... Maybe I wouldn't have the strength to do as she said. I tried to keep a brave face on for everyone. Sophia, Carl, my dad... They all need me to brave and strong. I tried to be. I'll always try to be... But, I guess sometimes people drown in their own thoughts once they bottle them up for too long. I was drowning, and my only lifeline was locked in a cell.