POV Sean

Looking at the limp body of someone that has been apart of this crew for nearly their entire life has filled me with the feeling of vomit. I have never felt this over a dead body before, because I see them, literally every single minuet of every single day, but this time, this time was different. I've known Ruth ever since she was three months old, and I cannot fathom the idea that she is, she's,

"She's dead,"

My attention diverted back to Dream, as she repeated the obvious. She's said this nearly thirty times in the past minuet. Yet with how many times she's reiterated the hurtful truth, it still doesn't seem to sink in with me yet. How could this have even happened?! She was just sitting in her tent, with Dream!
With Dream,
With, Dream
Dream.

"How, H-How could this have happened?" I asked with a hoarse voice, and a trembling stomach.

"Sean, I have no idea. Does she have asthma, or a sleep disorder, or something like that?!" She continued to list things that possibly could have gone wrong, but non of them make any sense for the predicament that they both were in. I continued to stare at Ruth's lifeless body, and started to piece together some parts of this hell of a puzzle.

"What are we going to do?" Dream sobbed.

"We?" I posed. Who the hell does she think she is? What do you mean we? You've been here, not even three days, and you're already taking down our numbers.

"What?" She asked, apparently not understanding what I said.

I took the back side of my left hand's thumb, and flicked it off of the back of my ear lobe, then, as I brought it to my chest area, I balled it, and hit it against the empty palm of my right hand, looking into her eyes angrily.

She stared back at me with empty eyes, and a wondering mind, she was so lost.

"Oh? You don't speak sign language? Oh, so you ARN'T DEAF?! Then why didn't you understand what I said? There, is, no, we." I continued to explain. Her mouth dropped agape, and she looked hurt. I hurt worse. She's known Ruth for two days, I've known her for seven years.

"Sean, what are you talking about?" She asked, tears streaming down her face.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, yet refusing to acknowledge everything, and anything you have done!" I started to grow more furious. My hands started to shake, and my stomach tightened up.

"Sean, I have no idea of what the hell you're talking about! What are you accusing me of?" She shouted back, looking down to Ruth, then laying her back on her sleeping bag. Are, you, fucking, kidding me? Who the hell do you think you are?! Ruth is a human being, yet you're throwing her body into her bag like the one, lonely, ranch doused, leaf that was once apart of a happy little salad. But as soon as the other parts added into the salad start to over power you, you're gone.

"You're a sick fucking bastard Dream," I said coldly, staring into her dead eyes, filled to the brim with tears.

"What the hell?" She asked, after a long pause. She knows.

"You know what you did you sick bastard!" I shouted.

"Sean, what the hell are you talking about?!" She screamed.

"You just threw her aside! Like a fucking leaf! A little leaf that no one cares about anymore! We heard your little pity party story, and your whole, 'Oh! Look at me! I'm Dream! I'm looking for my sister! I have a broken leg! I want free protection, SO I'M WILLING TO MURDER TO GET IT! YOU'RE A MONSTER!" I shouted right in her pretty face. I watched as her face flourished red, and eyes grew three sizes darker.

"Look. I don't know who the HELL you think I am, or what I've done, but I can sure as hell tell you I never touched that princess. I cuddled her during the night to stop her crying from you SCREAMING at her father, TYING him TO A TREE, and LEAVING HIM TO DIE! I care about this little girl more than anyone else. I don't know how to prove it to you, and even if there was a way, would you even listen?! You're so bull headed, you wouldn't see fucking truth if it came up and bit your little, white, ASS!" She was pissed. In all honesty, deep down, I knife that Dream could never do this, nor ever would fathom the idea of doing so, but right now, it's the only lead I have.

It's all her fault by the way! If she wouldn't have told me to show emotions, or even try to understand them, then I wouldn't be so mad, and reason with her. I took in a deep breath, while staring into her eyes. I need to calm down.

"You can prove it." I said.

"What do I have to do?" She talked after a long pause. She knew we needed to change direction, or someone would get hurt.

"Tell me what you were really doing that night. Tell me how you got out to the fence in the first place, when you were toppled in the first place. Tell me the entire truth. I can tell if you're lying." I stared straight through her. I saw her eyes shift as she started to remember that night.

"Alright. I was cuddling Dream, while trying to get her to sleep, then I heard a noise outside, and wanting to prove my worth here, I decided to not make a huge deal out of it, and so I would be the one to check it out. As I hobbled out there, I grabbed the broken table leg as a prosthetic, and hobbled over to the wall. When I walked to the wall, I made the mistake of leaning on it, and the zombie that was on the other side of the fence came through, and on top of me. You saw the rest," she said the entire story, clearly, with no hiccups, or stops. I watched her eyes after she told me her tale; to see if they would move, or shift away from mine; but no, they never fazed. Remained clear, present, determined, and most clearly, hurt. She was telling the truth, and I just proceeded to tell her that she killed a child. I watched her, as her face grew more and more of a sour look to it.

"Dream, I'm sorry," I spoke up. I knew this wasn't going to be enough, not even a good place to start.

"Sorry?! You're sorry?! Who the FUCK cares if you're sorry?! You called me a murderer! You insulted me repeatedly! YOU HAD THE AUDACITY TO TELL ME THAT I DON'T CARE ABOUT MY OWN SISTER! WHERE DO YOU GET OFF?!" Her eyes were red, her legs buckled under neath the weight of her heavy heart, and angry soul.

"Dream, you have to understand-" I tried to cut in, but she cut me off.

"Understand, what?" She snapped.

"I'm extremely stressed over all of this bull shit! We have a new person with a severe injury, we have to find your sister, we have a raider camp on our ass, and one of our group just died, a kid at that. I KNOW that this isn't a reason to take this out on you, I KNOW that, I just did, because I'm really struggling here Dream," I said, thrashing my fingers through my hair.

"It wasn't. It also wasn't my place to get so angry, it's, I miss Scarlet so much. That's my sister. That's who I need to find. I know you don't care, I know you don't know who she is, but I do, she means everything to me, and I, I fucking let her go. Why are you so mean? You don't even realize how you hurt people sometimes! You just don't seem to have a filter! I know you're a big, tough guy, but we aren't! We're still people! Please help us out here a little!" She cried into her hands, but continued to look up to me, with a pleading complexion.

"Dream, stop. I know this is all my fault. Everything. Your leg, not being able to keep you on your trail, my eye, Ruth for God sake, everything, is my fault. I can't have you apologizing. I know you're right, about the filter. I just want everyone to be able to make it through this together, hence why I'm so tough on you guys, to help prepare you. I really care about each, and every single one of you, with everything I am, that's why I am the way I am. It's a terrible way to be, and I guess it matches me pretty well," I said. But it was more than that of what I caused. This entire world is my fault. All the walkers, the terrible people that roam the grounds, all my fault. One mistake lead to another, and here we are. She doesn't  need to know that yet. Neither do you. You're just a stupid journal.

"Sean, we all need help here, but I don't think it's our turn," she whispered, looking into the tent. There was a shadow of a broken man, holding the one that kept him all together, and not fully crumbling. Everything that he needed, wanted, strived for in life, had just slipped through his finger tips, just like the cascading locks of hair that drizzled down through the cracked of his fingers. His eyes were tear, and pain riddled, his or and only daughter was dead in his arms, and he had no one to protect anymore. He had no one to keep his sanity in tact. His shoulders were shaking violently, and his eyes clenched tightly. Loud, guttural sobs erupted from his throat that was consumed by his tears seeping back into his mouth.

Darla grabbed Yuki's hand. Ben stood back with mouth agape. Dream was sobbing on the ground, by Yuki's comforting hand. And I was standing. Tears welling the bottom of my eyes, and pain swelling my heart. I haven't cried since Gracey, and I didn't think I needed to revisit that feeling. The pain of seeing a father loosing their child is something too great to bare.

"Ruth, no, my Ruthy. I-I never even got the chance to say I love you one last time." Carlos sobbed. He's lost, everything. Everything was Ruth, and she left without a word. As I watched his large, vascular hands grasp her hair, I noticed something about Carlos that I never had before. He was a huge man. He was largely built, with big hands, and bulging muscles everywhere you turned. But, he treated Ruth as gently as a little porcelain doll. Using his large hands to cradle her entire body, and rock her back and forth, as if she was a baby that needed to get to sleep. We watched as Carlos rocked his baby girl one last time, and tell her how much he loved her. Every last piece of our hearts broke.

I finally motioned for the rest to follow me.

"We need, as need to let Carlos be alone, and I think we all need to be alone for a while. They're isn't going to be a scavenge trip t-today. We'll reschedule for to-tomorrow. Everyone, please take care of each other. I-I'll see you in the morning. Dream, you s-sleep with Darla today. Good night," I stuttered to the group. I should have waited to talk. I knew that I should have never said anything with my voice in that condition, but I did, and I made a damn fool of myself. I walked back to my tent, and threw myself down onto my tent. Sobbing I did not, but thinking so hard I had a migraine, I did.

I thought of all the times I sat, and talked with Ruth, telling her how much she meant to me, listing to her stories, looking at her drawings. It broke my heart. This isn't fair. She's just a little girl. And soon, she'll be a monster.

Just like the rest of us.

2074 Words