Hello my friends. I want you to know this was a very hard chapter for me to write, which is why it took so long for me to get it out. I wanted to get it just right. I probably re-wrote it a half a dozen times before I was happy. I hope you enjoy it.

Happy Reading

<><><><><>

Jo

It took me longer than it should to realize the screaming wasn't in my nightmares. So many of my half coherent dreams had involved screaming it took the second shrill shriek for me to fully wake up. I jerked, my body slamming against the bindings holding me to the bed. I blinked, but my eyesight remained hazy. It was like I was underwater. Noises were muffled and everything felt like it was moving in slow motion. Every breath felt like it took five minutes to fill and empty my lungs.

I couldn't remember where I was. I tried to lick my lips so I could speak. So I could ask someone...anyone...something...My tongue was thick and dry in my mouth, and it wouldn't work. I was desperately thirsty. What was happening to me?

I couldn't remember what had woken me. It felt important, but the memory was at the edge of my consciousness, just out of reach. Every time I tried to focus it flitted away and my eyes drifted shut once more. I was so tired.

There was another scream. My eyes snapped open. That scream was real. It had to be. It was real and it was close. Someone was close. Adrenaline flooded my system and helped me think. Helped me focus. Helped me remember.

My mind was waking up, but my body still felt sluggish and heavy. Weak. I turned my head and what lay in the room beyond was worse than anything I had seen in my nightmares. Still tied down, everything was tilted sideways, a terrifying funhouse of flickering lights and blood curdling screams echoing off concrete walls.

I fought against the bindings as the snarls of biters filled my ears. I blinked my eyes, trying to make sense of what I was witnessing. The neat rows of cots were overturned as biters attacked people still strapped down.

Strapped down.

I was strapped down. I sucked in a breath and it caught in my throat making me cough. I coughed until I tasted blood. I lay, still tied down, gasping for breath that wouldn't seem to come. It was like I was drowning. There was shouting somewhere deeper in the room, but it was too dark to see if anyone was there trying to help the people left alive. If anyone in here was left alive.

My gaze caught the chair beside my cot and I remembered Merle sitting in it. Merle had been here. I twisted my arms, trying to wrench them free. Pain exploded across the back of one of my shoulder blades. I had strained against my stitches and it made everything sharper, clearer. The pieces were coming together and starting to make sense.

I was sick and Merle had been here. He and I were talking then...I slow blinked and my lids tried to stay shut. I forced them open, focusing on the dim light of the lamp on the stool beside my cot. The light glittered through an IV bag that hung above me like some kind of watery chandelier catching light and refracting it. It distracted me.

Memories were hazy and flickered out of order in my sluggish mind. I had an IV. I was sick. Merle had been here. The distorted light danced against the cement wall on my other side. If I looked that way I didn't have to face the nightmare that surrounded me. It made it easier to think. Easier to focus.

The Doctor gave me an IV. I had an IV and he put something in it when Merle and I had been talking. Something to make me sleep. He said I needed to rest so I could get better. He had drugged me.

Shouts came, "Get him out of there!" they weren't the shrill, terrified shrieks, but men calling to one another. People fighting. People surviving.

I turned towards the voices. The biters I could see abandoned the dead body they were ripping apart to follow the noise. They were drawn in, just like I was, to the sounds of life. The reassurance that someone else was still there, still alive.

This was every nightmare I had ever had come to life and somehow so much worse. I couldn't move, couldn't fight. I was just strapped down like an animal for slaughter.

I sank my teeth into my bottom lip, forcing myself to stay silent. So far the biters hadn't noticed me. My silence had kept me alive. I pulled on the ropes, twisting my arms until they screamed in pain. Pain throbbed up and down my body somehow pushing past the drugs in my system. I tasted blood in my mouth as my teeth sank into my lip, but I didn't make a sound. Feeling anything, even if it was pain, was a relief. It was a reminder that I was still alive

"I can't get the door!" Someone was yelling on the other side of the room. I could hear the sounds of fighting now as the pain cleared the drug induced haze. It allowed me to notice things outside just what was happening to me.

With a twist I finally managed to wrench my arm free. Pain radiated up and down the arm I had twisted to get free, fighting until I injured myself like an animal in a trap. I reached over and found the other knot with tingling fingers. My struggles had tightened it, making it nearly impossible to get loose. I closed my eyes as I forced myself to just feel the lines of the rope with shaking fingers.

I finally managed to get the rope and I ripped myself free. I wanted to bolt up, to be on my feet and ready, but the lamp beside my cot illuminated my corner. It felt like a spot light. I rolled over off the cot, landing lightly on my hands and knees and froze. I strained my ears. Trying to decide if any biters were coming my way. Something tugged on my arm and I flinched, looking down in confusion. The IV was still stuck under my skin. I ripped it out, watching impassively as blood welled up from the needle.

"The doors are locked!" Someone screamed from the other side of the room. I closed my eyes for a moment and exhaled. Forcing myself to center. To focus. If I lost it I was as good as dead. I needed cover and I needed weapons.

I slowly reached my hand up and clicked off the lamp. I froze and waited. All around me people were dying and fighting but I couldn't rush this. I had no weapons. I was weak. The arm I had twisted to get free was throbbing and the opposite shoulder was still wrecked from the stitches.

I slid my hand along the top of the stool,
hoping for a knife, anything. I couldn't imagine either Negan or Merle bringing me down here with nothing to defend myself. They wouldn't. But there was nothing but the lamp and a cup. There was nothing here.

I lowered back down onto the cool cement floor, rolling onto my back. I ignored the screaming pain as my stitches pressed against the floor. I closed my eyes. I had nothing. They had left me here. I was alone and they had left me here.

"Open it! Open it!" A desperate voice screamed from the other side of the room. There was loud pounding and people began to shout and scream once more. People were dying. The floor felt amazing as it cooled my heated skin through my sweat damp clothes. It took me a moment to remember that I was dying. Of course they left me here.

I inhaled. Stop, reset. I exhaled. I had to keep a clear head. If I didn't I was as good as dead already. And I wasn't dead. Not yet.   I was alone, but there was a type of freedom in that. All that mattered was my own survival.

A cough shook my body, but I kept my lips together, refusing to allow my body to make any noise. I was stronger than this. I just had to focus. 

I opened my eyes and looked around. I had a stool, a lamp, a wood chair, and the IV tree. I could break any number of them and turn the pieces into a weapon. It would draw attention to me right away however. When I moved, I would need to move fast. Nothing felt fast right now. My body was sluggish and heavy, weighed down with injury and illness and drugs.

"I can't! It's locked from the outside!" another voice yelled. This one was higher, more frightened. "They locked us in here," the man's voice broke with emotion as though he were resigning himself to his fate.

I lay on the cold concrete and fought to get control back of my body. In all of this, I had always been able to control my body. To be the weapon they made me. I had turned that weakness into my strength. In every nightmare I had I fought until I couldn't anymore. Not being able to fight, not being able to defend myself...this was the real nightmare.

"No please!" a woman's frightened shriek came from only a few feet away. Instinctively my head turns toward the sound, and I was reminded that I was never truly alone. I could stay here and wait until I was ready, or I could help her. When she shrieked again my decision was made. I couldn't wait any longer. People were dying.

I rolled onto my stomach took three hard deep breaths to fill my lungs and shoved myself to my feet. The chair would be the easiest. I slammed my heel in a downward kick trying to break up the wood chair. It broke, but not as smoothly as I would have liked. The easy strength I was so used to was gone. My leg throbbed and I landed on the ground coughing violently. I covered my mouth, desperate to stifle the noise, but when I looked up two biters were shambling towards me excitedly. I couldn't stop myself from coughing and I reached towards the broken pieces of chair with desperate, shaking fingers.

The biters were almost on top of me when I shoved myself back up onto shaky feet. I may have known them. May have seen them before, but I didn't let myself look. Didn't let myself see. I had to focus. I had pushed past worse than this. I could do this. I just needed to focus. I needed that place in my mind. That place where I didn't think, where I didn't feel. Where I just survived. I just fought.

It felt like I was pumping bellows just to fill my lungs and I could hear each breath rasp through them. Objectively, I knew that was a bad sign and knew it meant if I spent too much energy and started breathing heavily I was done. I needed to end this quickly. I tightened my grip in the chair legs. Both my arms were throbbing and my grip felt weak and insecure, but I dropped into a crouch nonetheless. The woman behind them was still alive.

They came at me together. I kicked at the one on the right. The motioned made something give in my lungs and I started coughing again. My heel caught the biter in the jaw sending it reeling back. Coughs were shaking my body as I stabbed towards the second biter's temple. The impact didn't break the skin. The chair leg slammed against the temple but the skull didn't break. The impact threw me off balance and I fell into the biter. Taking us both to the ground. Warm, groping fingers latched onto me, pulling me towards its clicking teeth.

Warm.

They were newly turned, fresh with next to no decomp which meant they would be tough kills. I needed the easiest path to the brain. I lifted the chair leg and twisted towards it's face sinking the leg through the biters eye socket. It went limp beneath me. I exhaled and rolled myself over as coughs wracked my body and my ribs throbbed painfully. I coughed until I gagged but the next biter was on me. I couldn't breathe as I kicked feebly at it. It was like my brain wasn't fully connected to my body. It grabbed at my legs and started pulling me towards its clicking teeth.

<><><><><>

Negan

I drove like a bat out of hell. We found medical shit. Tons of it. But I didn't bother letting anyone sort through any of it. We boxed up everything we could find as fast as possible. Every beaker and every textbook. We had miles of IV tubing and gallons of saline solution. Three cube trucks were full. It was the biggest payday we had ever found. One hell of a haul. Pretty much guaranteed to cover our medical needs for the next two years. But none of it mattered.

I couldn't stop the desperate tightening in my chest that had me convinced we were going to be too late. People were dying in a day from this shit. Their lungs exploding out their eyeballs in less than twenty-four hours. Hell, Matt's son had been a strong son of a bitch. Strong and healthy as an ox, and he was dead in a day. It was getting dark now, which meant Jo had been sick for a day and a half. We didn't know of anyone who had survived this shit that long.

She was a force to be reckoned with, tough as nails, but she was so goddamn small. The image of her laying unconscious on that cot, pale as death, fighting for every breath was seared into my brain. She had looked so fragile. I tightened my grip on the steering wheel until it hurt. I wasn't going to let this world take her from me too.

The run had taken too goddamn long. Fifty miles each way, clearing the road as we went. It took six hours to get there, but only two to get back. The others tried to get me to stop to refuel but I flat out refused. We weren't going to mess around with this. We had to get back as soon as possible and I pushed it. The trucks were running on fumes as we pulled through the gates.

I threw the truck into park, jumped down from the drivers seat and started yelling. "Get this goddamn shit unloaded and down to the goddamn doc," I yelled to everyone who was standing around.

When they didn't snap-to I reached into the truck and pulled Lucille off the dash into view. "Get moving!" I bellowed.

The men broke up and hustled to the back of the trucks. I wanted to see Jo but I was covered in sweat and blood. I headed towards my room to change before I checked on her. I was going to light a fire under the Doc's ass. It was late, but if that prick was sleeping when I got there he was going to regret it.

"Negan!" A voice called behind me.

I swung around to face him. I couldn't for the life of me remember his name, but the little shit was good at poker. He wasn't bothering with a poker face now. He dropped down onto his knee in front of me. "Negan." His face was grim as he looked up at me. "There's a situation you need to know about."

<><><><><>

Jo

The biter pulled me across the slick cement floor towards it snapping teeth. It's grip felt impossibly strong. Unbreakable. I twisted, my fingers struggling to find purchase on the cement.

"You're going to fight...til ya can't anymore."

Merle's words echoed in my mind. It was those words that had saved me before. Reminded me who I was and what I could do. I sank into myself. Pushing aside anything and everything else. Just one thing mattered: Surviving.

I pulled both feet up to my chest and kicked out with both of them at the same time. The biter jerked back. It's jaw dislocating. I tried to throw myself to my feet but I misjudged my strength and only managed to stagger up, barely catching myself from falling again. With one arm wrapped around my ribs, as though I could hold myself together, I stomped my heel down on the biter's temple. One, two three times...then I lost count. I kept going until my boot hit the floor.

I staggered to the cot with the screaming woman. She was still trapped. My fingers touched the knots and I started trying to pull them loose. She was crying and screaming hysterically, begging someone to help her. She thrashed against the ropes and I had to pull back a few times so she couldn't kick me.

"Barbie!" Merle's voice came again, only this time it sounded closer, and a lot more exasperated than I remembered. It couldn't be real. Merle wasn't here, they had left me. I was alone.

The drugs still weighed on my mind, making my thoughts sluggish and unreliable. One thought tumbled into another and another tangling with my nightmares. Nothing here felt real. I kept working on the knots. Focusing on what I knew was real.

"Barbie!" His voice was a sharp reprimand now, just behind me.

Someone grabbed my arm, jerking me around roughly to face him. I raised the one chair leg I still had in my hand ready to strike, but stopped when I recognized Merle. His face was ashen and covered in blood splatter. Sweat was dripping down his temples. "Jesus, Barbie," he snapped, knocking the chair leg from my hand easily. It clattered loudly against the floor and I flinched. I looked around in confusion, wondering where the other one had gone.

Merle didn't seem to notice. He looked down at the woman and back at me. "You're too late," he said.

I frowned at him, his words didn't make sense and just added to the drug-foggy nightmare quality of the situation. Screams were sounding all around us, but he didn't seem to notice. His entire attention was on me. It didn't feel real as he motioned to the woman's stomach. I looked down and for the first time noticed her shirt was soaked in blood. I could see where they had bitten her. Where they had reduced her to a pile of meat.

It was too late.

Merle pulled me back away from the woman as my stomach churned.

"Please!" She sobbed reaching her hand out towards me.

Merle shifted, leaning his cane against him so he could reach his belt with his free hand. He pulled a single knife and held it out to me.

I stared at it for a long time wondering why he wanted me to make the kill. Hadn't I killed enough? Wasn't it someone else's turn to fight?

"Barbie," he said. "Barbie!" My eyes jerked up to his face. "You still with me?" He asked, his eyes narrowing.

I nodded on reflex and he held the knife closer to me.

I took it from him because I knew that's what he wanted. I nearly dropped it as my tingling fingers struggled to close around the slim handle. Once I had it Merle hefted his cane and turned back to the woman. I still wasn't following what was happening until he swung his cane. He crushed her skull with one powerful blow. The motion overbalanced him, forcing his weight onto his bad leg and he staggered a step before righting himself.

I frowned at him as I realized Merle was far from being one hundred percent himself. Both of us were damaged and weak.

"Damn leg," he grumbled. He jerked his cane out of the dead woman's skull, wiping it off on the sheets. "Let's move Barbie," he said, leaning heavily on the bloodied cane.

I followed him through the chaotic room. Everywhere people were screaming from their cots. Some from being attacked, others from fear of dying. Merle and I fought our way towards a small group of people in the corner near the door. Merle took point and killed most biters. Stopping to rest his weight on his good leg so he could sink his cane into their skulls.

One biter slipped past him, "Barbie!" He called a warning. It took a massive effort but I managed to sink the knife into its skull. I tried to clear the blade but it wouldn't pull free and I wasn't strong enough to hold the limp biter up. It collapsed to the ground, taking my knife with it. I hung my head and coughed. The coughs shook my whole body. When I was done I swiped at my mouth with the back of my hand. It came away smeared with blood. I wiped it off on my pants, grimacing.

Merle didn't notice. He was stooped over the corpse. He jerked my knife free, used it to kill another biter and then turned around to hand it back to me. "We gotta keep moving Barbie."

I frowned up at Merle nodding. "Where's-" I panted. "Your bayonet?" I managed to cough out, motioning down at his prosthetic.

Merle looked down at the metal casing that covered his arm. "Ain't got it on me," he chuckled at his joke and put on his best 'Uncle Merle' face, but his eyes were serious. I knew it was because of me. He would have been wearing it if he was on duty, but he had been sitting down here with me. It was my fault.

Merle pushed me in front of him towards the others. When we reached them Fat Joey was killing a biter as Doctor Carson crouched behind him. Two other men I didn't know were half collapsed against the wall. Each with a knife in their hands. They both looked sick, but neither had been bitten.

"The door's still locked," one of the sick men reported to Merle, coughing.

Merle nodded grimly, but didn't look at all surprised.  I stumbled behind him, my boot catching on the floor as my head spun. Now that I wasn't fighting it was getting harder and harder to focus again. Merle swung around and caught me with his prosthetic arm. "Whoa, whoa, easy there Barbie." I let him support me as I sort of hung there and just focused on breathing.

Merle gently guided me towards the others. I leaned against the wall and started coughing. Merle swung back to Carson. "What the hell's wrong with her?" His words were a harsh snarl. "This ain't just being sick."

I normally would have been upset that he spoke over my head, like I wasn't there, but I was too tired to care. I pressed my warm cheek against the cold cement wall and sighed in relief.

Carson's eyes widened when he saw me. "How?" Carson stammered. He staggered towards me and instead of pulling back I blinked up at him. His reaction didn't make sense. Everything was getting hazy again. I blinked my eyes and they didn't open. "You should be sleeping," Carson's voice brought me back. He took a step closer to me and looked into my eyes, blanching at what he saw there. "You shouldn't have woken for hours...I thought I killed you. I thought Negan-" he stopped himself then, his face still looked as though he had seen a ghost. 

"Why did you think you killed her?" Merle's voice rasped behind me.

I turned towards the sound of his voice. Instinctively moving towards the familiarity. I didn't like Carson touching me when I was this out of it.

"Your niece," he started to say. "That is, I administered-"

Merle cut him off shaking his head in disgust. "Ya drugged her with something," he snapped as though he just remembered.

Merle swung back around. He crouched in front of me and forced me to look in his eyes. "Barbie," he said. He set his cane down and touched my face. He let out a low whistle. "He's got you high as can be," he shook his head. "You with me?"

I nodded slowly. Now that the adrenaline was fading I felt like I was too. I blinked my eyes and it took a herculean effort to open them again. I was so tired. I just wanted to sleep.

Merle swung back on Carson, stepping towards him aggressively. "What did you give her?" He snarled.

Carson's eyes widened and for the first time he looked like he was afraid of good old Uncle Merle. "J-just a standard dose of morphine."

"How much?" Merle demanded. "Have you seen her pupils?"

"7 cc's," Carson said, lifting his chin as though daring Merle to contradict him. "She was in a lot of pain and needed to rest."

Merle narrowed his eyes and took a dangerous step towards Carson. "That's enough to put me on my ass, tiny as she is and weak to boot...you're lucky she woke up at all."

Carson narrowed his eyes. "I knew what I was doing," he growled. "We needed to slow her cough."

"Ya took a big goddamn risk," Merle said. "Negan's gonna hear about it." He promised. He glanced back towards me. "No naps," he called.

It took more effort than it should have, and certainly more than I could afford to spend, but I flipped him off.

Merle threw back his head and laughed. He sobered then, turning back to the path through the cots he and I had cleared. "We gotta figure out how to get the hell out of here," Merle growled.

Biters were lining up, shambling towards us. The screams were dying down now. We were the only ones left. Five, six, seven I couldn't get a clear count...but the small herd shambled towards us, growling excitedly at the prospect of fresh meat.

"Shit, shit, shit," Carson muttered under his breath, skittering back until his back slammed into the wall.

I shoved myself forward, staggering to my feet as the herd came towards us.

"We got you Doc," one of the sick men said, shoving himself to his feet. The four of us lifted what weapons we had and stepped forward. If Carson died, this was all for nothing. Without him we wouldn't be able to heal anyone.

My arms were shaking and I was exhausted. I coughed and tasted blood, but I lifted the knife all the same.

You're gonna fight...til ya can't anymore

<><><><><>

Negan

My boots thundered loudly as I pounded down the metal stairs towards the quarantine room. Towards her. She was goddamn in there and they had lost control. The kid, poker kid, who told me what had gone down was right behind me. They had lost control of some of the biters and had lost some people. Harry and a group of men were in there taking control again.

I pulled up short when Harry met me at the bottom of the stairs. Harry who was goddamn supposed to be in there saving the lives of every helpless person I gave them permission to tie to their beds.

Harry dropped to his knees in front of me. "N-Negan," he stammered out a greeting.

I never stopped moving. I grabbed the sack of shit but his throat and propelled him backwards until his back slammed against the wall. He grunted and coughed. I hoped he was sick. I hoped the piece of shit died. "WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO?!" I roared in his face. I was shaking with barely contained fury. "WHY THE SHIT ARE YOU OUT HERE?!"

Harry's eyes were wide with fear and he looked like he was about to piss his pants. I kept my hand tight around his throat. "W-We," he tried to speak around my choking hold, but he couldn't. He squirmed but never actually tried to fight me. The coward was just going to stand there and let me kill him. The piece of shit didn't belong here. Didn't deserve the breath I was squeezing out of him.

I threw him away from me, down the hall and closer to the room. He scrambled back as I stalked towards him. "We-we had to s-seal the room, there were too many of them," Harry whimpered.

"What the shit do you mean, seal the room?" I roared spinning towards the door. I ran towards it. Desperate to get it open. I grabbed the heavy metal handle but it wouldn't move.

"We couldn't stop them," Harry's voice broke from behind me. "W-we lost control. If we didn't contain them they would have gotten out."

I turned on him. "So you ran," I challenged, my voice deadly calm. "You keep saying 'we' but I only see one man out here." I swung back towards the door and slammed against it but it wouldn't open. "WHERE THE FUCK IS THE FUCKING KEY!" I screamed. Slamming my fists against the door.

Harry dropped his shaking hands to his pockets fumbling to pull the keys out.

"There were just too many. Too many got free. We couldn't stop them," he dropped the keys once before I ripped them from his fingers. He cried out and scrambled back from me. Poker kid grabbed hold of Harry's collar as Simon and some of the others appeared at the end of the hall.

"Let's move!" I bellowed at them, sinking the key into the lock. "Hold him." I snarled pointing at Poker kid.

When I opened the door it was chaos. People were screaming and dying and there was biters everywhere. They hadn't been able to stop them so Harry had just fucking left her in there to die.

He had better hope he had the flu and would die in the next twenty-four hours. Because what I was going to do to him was going to take a hell of a lot longer.

<><><><><>

Jo

There was a noise like thunder behind me. "WHERE THE FUCK IS THE FUCKING KEY?!" A voice bellowed and the door rattled in its frame but didn't open. Relief and hope were both foreign emotions for me. Especially with the snarls of biters echoing in my ears.

He was right outside. I only had to hold on for a little longer.

I turned my head back towards the herd in front of me. There was already a pile of five biters dead at my feet. The two men whose names I didn't know were dead too. Fat Joey was hurt, half collapsed on the ground behind us with Doctor Carson working to patch him up.

It was just Merle and I.

I was shaking and my body was slick with sweat. The edges of my vision were turning black. A small drip of blood ran down from the corner of my mouth, but I didn't have the strength to wipe it away. It didn't matter anymore. It took every ounce of focus I had to keep my grip on the knife.

I staggered forward a step and forced my body to lift the knife. My left arm wouldn't work anymore. Blood was running down my arm, making my already weak grip slick. Another biter came towards me and I swung with all my might. The blade grazed off its skull and we both went down. I lifted the arm and slammed the knife down again as hard as I could. It was just barely strong enough to enter the skull.

I fell forward landing on a knee, and didn't have the strength to pick myself back up again. Behind me I heard Doctor Carson whimper as he realized I was done. I had reached the end of what my body was capable.

I couldn't fight anymore.

It took everything I had to lift my chin and look at the biters coming straight for me. Too close for me to stop it. Too close for me to do anything.

I still don't know what he said. I like to think it was 'Jo' but it could just as easily have been 'No'. He never called me Jo. 

It was the last words he spoke to me.

I was leaning forward, fighting to breathe and knowing there was nothing I could do. They were closing in on me faster than I thought possible and yet for just this second my mind felt clear. I was glad to go down fighting, instead of dying of this illness. The herd shambled towards me, their greedy hands reaching. They leaned in, teeth clacking hungrily. I hoped it was quick. 

Then Merle was in front of me. His bad leg gave out as he blocked the herd from getting to me. I had a brief moment where all I could see was his back as he stood in front of me, shielding me from their teeth. Then he was falling away from me. Collapsing to the floor. His body going slack.

Just like that. 

It happened that fast.

The sound of the lock clicking behind us was like a gunshot.

Too late.

Negan was too late. I dropped the knife and it clattered loudly against the concrete floor. My feeble hands tried to catch him, to help him, to save him.

I was too late too.

There was blood everywhere. Warm and sticky it coated the front of him and covered my hands as I fought to save him.

I opened my mouth and yelled for help but there was no sound.

It didn't feel real. It couldn't be real.

Merle was the ultimate survivor. He wouldn't sacrifice himself for someone else. This wasn't real.

This was a nightmare.

Blood covered his ravaged throat. His wide, sky blue eyes stared up at me, unblinking. Unseeing.

Dead.

This wasn't real. It couldn't be real.

I opened my mouth to scream but I didn't know if any sound came out. I didn't know what happened next. I collapsed under his weight and someone caught me. Strong arms pulled me back as tears blinded me. I choked and coughed, screaming out my pain. But it wasn't enough. It could never be enough.

This was real.

<><><><><>