You felt the dusty and dry earth beneath you. You heard the moans of the walkers. You heard Sam pawing to drive them away. You heard Daryl scream your name. You felt that your eyes didn't want to open, you didn't want their scornful faces to be your last memory. You felt like you were going to die, you felt that hole would be a perfect coffin. But then you noticed something strange. They walked past you, climbing over you and ignoring you as if you didn't exist. You opened your eyes and saw the walkers in a corner. Your smell had remained hidden because of her own guts. The previous bloodbath saved your life... Shortly thereafter, you searched for your knife but couldn't find it. Sam has tried to keep them away with his bare hands. Behind one of the walkers, you saw a machete and looked up, only to see Daryl shooting an arrow so you could grab the weapon. You took the machete with one hand and dipped into the small herd. You ran through those rotten bodies and pulled the blade through their skulls as if it were a sword. You felt their hands trying to reach out to pull you to their teeths, but you didn't give up, on the contrary. You took this opportunity to kill the last walker that separated you from Sam, then stood in front of him and heard him complain. Then you saw a liquid which appeared thick and warm. It's blood... You noticed that the few walkers left are focused on Daryl, but he didn't seem to have any problems. So you turned around and grabbed Sam. He was covered in blood. It was all his own...

"They bit me!", he repeated between some sobs: "My arm, they bit me..."

You looked down and hoped innocently that he was wrong. The skin, tendons and muscles had been partially exported from the bones. What was left of it hung down his arm. He had defended himself by instinctively pressing his arms against them. A feeling of nausea hit you and you swallowed hard.

"I don't want to turn!", he shouted: "I don't want to become one of them!"

You studied his arm carefully, trying to find out how far he had been bitten and where you could chop off his arm.

"We can still do it, Sam!", you urged and he started to cry.

"Everything will be fine.", you said to calm him down: "I promise you."

Daryl suddenly appeared next to you, seizing Sam's arm and holding him tight. He screamed in pain, but you knew you shouldn't pay too much attention to that sound at the moment. It was important to remove the arm as soon as possible. You wiped the machete on your pants, sank it into the remaining flesh of his arm, and a heart-rending scream rose to the sky. But it wasn't over yet, the machete hadn't completely cut through the bone. By the way, the archer also prevented other walkers from landing here. He looked at you as if asking you to do it again. And you contented yourself with pushing that blade back into Sam's arm. He fainted from the pain, the blood began to flow abundantly and you tried to contain the wound, holding it with your hands as if it were a water pipe. You prepared to give him a precarious bandage so he wouldn't lose too much blood. You and Daryl urgently needed to reach the others who had the backpack with all the necessary medicines and tools.

"We have to hurry!", you shouted.

"We don't know if...", Daryl said, not saying the rest of the sentence.

"He'll make it.", you answered abruptly, hooking the machete to your belt.

Daryl moved and examined the wall that separated you from the surface. He tried to climb, but the ground was so dry that it crumbled under his shoes and made him fall. It was therefore impossible to get up there and you looked around hastily. Not even a root was there to hold on to.

"Good.", you sighed excitedly: "Pull yourself up on me."

You stood with your back to the wall, positioned your legs, and put your hands together so you could push Daryl up. He looked at you doubtfully and wasn't sure if you could succeed.

"Let's try the opposite.", he advised.

"No, I don't have the strength.", you replied.

He hasn't lost any more time and put your plan into action. The pain permeated you, from the leg to the shoulder. You felt your body completely exhausted, deprived of every little crumb of power and energy, but you knew you needed to keep fighting. You lifted him up a bit, just enough to make sure he could hold on to the edge and pull himself up. When he reached the top, Daryl stretched out his arms. It was very difficult and the fact that Sam was unconscious didn't help at all. You dragged him to the edge where you managed to lift him. Daryl grabbed him and almost risked falling again. Then he wanted to pull you up. You took a little distance so that you could jump higher in the run-up. You then jumped, held out your hand and Daryl grabbed you in the air. You wanted to have time to calm down and recover from the shock you suffered, but this wasn't possible. Daryl took Sam on his shoulders and you ran. You ran as fast as you could and repeated that he could do it.

"We have to be faster.", you mumbled.

"Y/N, I don't think we've to..."

You shook your head and didn't even turn around. "Shut up!", you answered and didn't want to see anyone die again.

You could feel your heart beat wildly, your lungs contracted quickly, but you couldn't stop yourself. You just had to go on as usual.

"Listen to me.", Daryl said: "We can't waste medicines, we'll need 'em for those who really need 'em."

Your feet snapped between the dead leaves, reminding you every step of how far away you were.

"He needs them!", you burst out.

You knew what he wanted to tell you because he was already dead to him. But you didn't want to believe it and flee into that bitter and unlikely hope. It couldn't always end like this, giving up people and seeing them die. You felt like a liar, one who could never save a life... You were tired, tired of seeing people die.

"Y/N, damn!", he started again: "He's bitten several times 'nd he loses too much blood!"

"No!", you said, suppressing your sobs.

Just when you wanted to give in from exhaustion, you saw lifeless walkers on the floor. You were close, you did it. You cheered, but Daryl didn't join you. As soon as you came out of the bush Rick opened his eyes wide. The others filled you with questions. You made room for each other, ignored the questions and let Daryl take care of them. As soon as you laid Sam on the asphalt, you sat down next to him. You quickly released his arm from this miserable bandage and observed the actual conditions of the wound in sunlight. Meanwhile, you heard Daryl explain the incident. Suddenly everyone was with you and surrounded you. You saw their shadows, but no one moved to help you and you couldn't believe it, they too thought about it like Daryl. Would they really let him die? Rick lowered himself so he could look into your eyes and put a hand on your shoulder. "Y/N...", he whispered.

"No, damn shit!", you shouted, chasing him away: "Where's that damn backpack?"

You got up, ran to reach the backpacks and hurriedly emptied them, feeling the various objects with trembling hands. Then you took a bottle of alcohol and a bandage, but as soon as you were on your way to Sam, Daryl grabbed the things out of your hands.

"Why?", you asked, feeling tears streaming down your face, then looked up and noticed a series of empty expressions.

"He's dead.", Rick replied: "Y/N, he's dead..."

This words echoed in your head and tormented you. You didn't want to believe it, it couldn't be true. He was just unconscious, he would do it. A promise is a promise.

"No...", you said: "He passed out and lost a lot of blood, he can still do it."

You saw Father Gabriel making the sign of the cross and Eugene hid his trembling chin. At that moment, you were really looking at Sam's face. He was pale, his lips were purple. It had happened, he was really dead. Once again you had smeared your hands with the blood of a human being who was a part of your group. You brought your legs to your chest so that your forehead rested on your knees. Your eyes burned, but no tears came out. Daryl took Rick aside and told him about the trap you three ran into. In retrospect, this showed that there were other dangerous people. Maggie sat by your side and gently stroked your back. Although you didn't know Sam for a long time, somehow you managed to get him to belong to your group. He was nice, someone who could make you laugh. He even took care of you, but above all Beth. You were a mixture of emotions, a volcano that wanted to break out, and besides, you felt weak.

"We have to bury him.", you said to interrupt Rick and Daryl. Glenn sighed: "We don't even have a shovel to dig a hole."

You pressed your eyes to your forearm, hoping to relieve the burning sensation. Then you got up, approached the street and moved the leaves with your feet. Sam deserves to be buried, you did it with everyone. You would never have left him there on this street. So you sunk your nails into this hard ground like stone. With anger, despair and defeat you started to dig. You felt that you had reached the limit. Your emotions had literally tortured you and it was a burden on your back. You always pretended to be positive in every terrible situation you're in. You had desperately tried to follow any well-intentioned advice, but now it was too hard, almost impossible. There are moments in life when it is necessary to be sincere with oneself, and that moment was repeatedly presented in your presence, but you could dispel it with a few words of chance. On the contrary, there were no words that could justify the hell you all went through. Life had always been cruel, but the Apocalypse had crossed the line. Then you suddenly felt that all their eyes were on you, as if to emphasize how crazy you was.

"Y/N, you can't be serious...", Michonne said, thinking of getting you to change your mind.

And you knew that Rick would not allow you to stay here and waste time, he would insist on continuing the journey. The digging would have been an unnecessary waste of energy, in his view.

"I'm not asking you to help me.", you said: "Don't worry, I'll have no trouble reaching you all later."

Nobody answered you and let you understand that they exchanged opinions with their eyes. You weren't afraid or interested in their judgment and understood their intentions. You didn't blame them, but you would never let Sam's body be on the edge of the street, like a forgotten object. Suddenly you saw some hands added to yours on the ground. You were surprised to see Eugene at your side. You didn't say anything and limited yourselves to digging. But you appreciated it very much. Then you saw everyone kneeling one after the other and getting dirty without saying a word or showing fatigue. You knew very well how hard it was for them to fight this way and sacrifice their last energies. You weren't sure if they did it for you or for Sam, but you liked to think it was for him. You didn't lift your head off the sketched hole and kept working. That gesture meant a lot. These were really the people for whom you would sacrifice yourself with your eyes closed, you had no doubt about that. Rick reached out his hand and clutched yours for a few seconds, as if to remind you that you weren't alone, that you had a real family at your side. And when you thought back to how it all started, you felt really happy...

~

You dipped your hands in the warm water. The sun was really overheating that part of the world... You washed the mud and the blood that was gathering on your skin and watched the wandering living dead on the other side of what was supposed to be some kind of pond. Unfortunately the water was dirty, so you couldn't do anything but use it for such things as washing and taking care not to have open wounds. Rick and the others checked the fencing and added a kind of trap that would warn you of the arrival of some walkers after he'd decided to take a break for the time being. Daryl, on the other hand, was beside you, more silent than usual, busy washing the rest of the arrows. You appreciated the fact that he had decided to keep you company because you knew how difficult it was for him to be like that. While the blood was scattered in this murky water, your mind did nothing but project that pit of walkers. You thought about how Daryl had rushed in without any problems, as if it were a normal and spontaneous action. But the reality was very different. Not everyone would have so unconsciously decided to be a hero, on the contrary, many would have resigned. But you all would have done everything to help each other. If you hadn't stumbled under the weight of these walkers and their guts hadn't covered you, you would have died in that pit.

"Ya' did everythin' possible.", Daryl suddenly said, realizing that you were going to torture yourself about Sam's death.

"All I did was giving more pain to him...", you said, regarding the amputation. He shook his arrows and then dried them off.

"Ya' 've done the right thin'.", he reassures you: "The likelihood that he could be saved was minimal, but it was worth a try 'nd ya' wasted no time."

You dried your hands on your pants: "The last time I talked to him... I treated him badly and hurt him, and I can not undo it."

"So?", he said and shrugged: "Ya' hurt everyone."

You looked at him grimly: "Actually, I'm only like that to you."

He put a hand on his chest. "I'm flattered."

You knew he was so as not to let you think too much to avoid blaming, but that couldn't have been avoided. Then he coughed and hid his voice as if he had something on his conscience.

"So...", he began and took his time: "Anyway, I wanted to apologize for what I said in the church..."

You looked at him happily, happy that he sometimes recognized the malice he caused others.

"Yeah, lately you often ask me for an apology.", you said.

"I would not let it show you.", Maggie joked and appeared behind you two.

Daryl pouted and you kept staring at him. It was as if he had never given up his youthful, cheeky and grim side. Without another word he left and showed that he had to talk to Rick. Maggie then sat by your side.

"Surely that's a stupid question... But how are you?", she asked with a smile. You really appreciated that she wanted to be close to you.

"I'd be lying if I told you that I feel so much better.", you admitted: "I'm just thinking about what happened."

"We'll survive for a long time, right?", she asked, referring to herself and you thought of your little sister.

"At best, yeah."

You watched Glenn looking at you both from time to time. He seemed happy that you were talking together. You turned around and saw that Maggie did the same.

"He sent me to you.", she explained: "But I'm glad he did it... In short, we know each other from the prison, but we've never really spoken except for organizational reasons."

"I'm not really good at making new friends.", you laughed, blushing slightly and she smiled at you.

"What do you think about those walkers, those with that letter on their forehead? I think there's going to be trouble..."

You had no idea what she was talking about: "What letter?"

She suddenly turned around in disbelief: "Those in the pit. Daryl said they had a 'W' engraved on their forehead."

"I didn't really notice.", you said confused: "This huge pit reminded me of the Governor... Although, he used it for some other reasons, his weren't hidden and they were no traps for humans."

"And what was the pit of the Governor for?"

"The walkers were partly for his entertainment shows."

Maggie pulled her legs up to her. "Do you think he's still alive? Maybe the letter 'W' is for Woodbury, maybe he wants revenge?", she revealed her doubts.

You sighed and thought hard. Were you afraid he might still be alive? Yes... You hated that you had never discussed this topic with Sam. You wanted to know more about this Brian Heriot.

"I don't know, it's almost impossible for him to be saved, and the 'W'? I don't think he would be so melodramatic."

You both giggled and relaxed the tension. The sky darkened and brought the first gusts of wind that were as cold as the icy death. You noticed that Rick and Abraham were trying to light a fire in the meantime. Then you got up and decided to go to the rest of the group. You had already isolated enough... You looked at Michonne, who seemed happy to have a fire that could warm you all up in the night.

"We have placed some sound traps with the different glasses. At least we can safely light the fire and know if anyone is approaching while we sleep."

You crouched down by the fire and lost yourself in those crackling flames. This heat somehow made you feel alive. You watched the campfire and could do nothing but think about the nights you spent with your family, the roasted marshmallows, the horror stories that were actually just stupid jokes compared to today's reality. You were all in a circle, only lit by the fire. And it was nice to be able to look at them all and think, this is your family. Maggie rested her head on Glenn's shoulder. Rosita stroked Abraham's arm and almost pressed him like a stuffed animal. Michonne cleaned her Katana, content to find it again. One of Gareth's henchmen had practically delivered it. Little Judith seemed to have fallen asleep in Carl's arms. Rick was really lucky to have her back with him. In the meantime, Daryl has turned away for several minutes to look for something to hunt.

"I know it ain't much.", he said angrily as he reappeared: "But that's all I've foun'."

As soon as he showed what he had, you all looked disgusted. Worms wobbled energetically and huddled together.

"Do you really think we'll eat those?", Sasha contradicted, distorting her mouth.

"Well, maybe it's not the best.", Rick said: "But they're rich in protein and will be useful to us."

Then he took two and thanked the archer. Carl didn't seem happy, in fact he didn't seem ready to eat them.

"Don't think 'bout the apparition.", Daryl explained.

And then he began to distribute them as if he were the host. As soon as he looked at you, you took courage and grabbed a worm. It already made you sick to look at this creature, but you didn't want to be the only one who retreated. You swallowed, threw it in your mouth and chewed quickly. The taste was passable, but the consistency was the real problem. Eugene stared at you as if he wanted to get an opinion on the taste of the worm. You then gave him a thumbs up and pretended to like them. Surely it hadn't soothed our hunger, but at least it allowed you to absorb a tiny percentage of nutrients. Meanwhile, Father Gabriel looked at you all disgusted, but no different than usual. And slowly your eyelids became heavier, until everything was dark.

~

You woke up later and broke the nightmare in which you lived. You rubbed your eyes and stretched your back. Everyone slept peacefully and provided a sense of peace and security. Everything, except for a more distant figure. As you looked around, you noticed that only Rick was missing. You added a few twigs to the fire you had collected and joined the sheriff, who seemed very annoyed.

"Can't you sleep?", you yawned and he ran a hand behind his neck as if to massage his aching muscles. "It is not easy."

"Too many thoughts in your head?", you asked, sitting next to him.

"I think you know it well enough.", he replied, meaning that you were awake too.

You snorted. In fact, you would have liked to sleep to give peace to this body that supports you. Unfortunately, your subconscious didn't agree, because as soon as you closed your eyes, it projected all the cruelest memories and let you relive every moment. Instead, you knew that Rick had something else on his mind. You were tired of seeing how he created feelings of guilt for the tasks he himself set for the mental punishment he brought with him.

"You can not continue like this."

He looked at you questioningly, though you knew he was imagining what you were referring to.

"I understand that you have been appointed leader of these people, that you feel responsible for every single step, but you can not keep all that burden on your shoulders. You will end up breaking down or going crazy."

"Where's the difference?", he sighed: "I'm crazy already."

"Maybe you are a bit shaky sometimes...", you said: "But you're still a great person, Rick, you do your best and have the full trust of us all, isn't that enough?"

"I want you to be safe.", he said, rubbing his wrist: "I want to know Carl, my daughter, Daryl and all of our group in safety and I will not rest until I succeed."

You put your hand on his shoulder and stroked it a bit. He really would have done everything for you all.

"Okay sheriff!", you smiled, tapping his shoulder with your fist and trying to cheer him up a bit: "I bet that day will come soon, trust me."

But he didn't seem so convinced. He became a pessimist, just like Daryl. Not that you really believed in what you had just said. After all that had happened, you wouldn't be fooled anymore. There are no good days, there is no luck. It's all a sadistic game of a capricious deity or a bored destiny. Then you noticed your heavy eyes again. You were tired, but you didn't want to leave Rick alone in the company of his own fears, nor did you really want to fall asleep. You preferred to stay away from these nightmares.

"Anyway.", he exclaimed, interrupting your thought: "It's the second time you hit me, by the way."

"What?"

"In the church.", he explains: "Stop it, understand?"

You were surprised by his sudden change of mood, but you did not blame him. You tried to think back to the times when you hit him. You started from the very beginning, from the first day you saw him through the sniper rifle's scope, on the hill in front of the prison, and lived through it every day until your thoughts stopped at this memory. Joe. You had beaten the sheriff to stop him from killing a man, even though he had raped you and taking away the only piece of honor you had left.

"Roger that."

He stretched his back and showed his intention to lie down. You followed him, lying beside him, staring into the sky, which was as black as ink. Your bodies were subtly lit by the faint light of the flickering fire that crunched between pieces of dried wood that had almost become embers. Soon it would be completely extinguished. You could see the clear iris of the sheriff staring out of space, as if he wanted to dip.

"There are no stars in the sky.", he whispered.

"Then there are many clouds, and if we are lucky, it could rain tomorrow."

He mumbled something to himself, as if he didn't want to share his negative thoughts with you. In any case, you knew what was going on in his head, you knew very well that you weren't lucky. Slowly you heard his breathing get heavier and were glad that he finally fell asleep. You got up, looked at the group and saw Carl shudder. The fire was almost out... You took the machete out of your backpack, then approached some distant trees and buried the blade in some branches and tried to dispel the image of Sam's amputation. With every hit you made, it felt like you were cutting Sam's arm off again. Suddenly there were clinking glasses. A walker stumbled and landed on the ground. You slammed the blade into that disfigured skull with disdain, went back to the campfire, and let the fire rise again. Satisfied, you sat down and stretched your hands close to the flames. It was freezing cold. And as close as you were to the heat, you still felt cold. And then you wondered who the real walking dead were among you and them, with no doubt about the answer. What were you all but snowflakes in a not too hard winter? You all were just like fragile crystals on asphalt where you would melt once and for all...