Again, I'm wondering in myself. I have nothing else to do nowadays. This time, I'm going through the dark halls of the prison, since it's raining outside. Not that it bothers me very much, but I just don't want to get sick. Carol warned me for that, especially since we're a little short on medicine. Looks like Rick will be going out again soon to get just that. But not today.
Now that I think about it; I haven't seen him going out for the past couple of days. I haven't seen him at all, actually. Maybe one time at breakfast, but that's it. He has probably something else on his mind right now. Like his son for one. I've only seen him playing with guns, and it kinda freaks me out. Even Calvin gets scared of it. He keeps asking why Carl is playing with that weapon. To be honest; I'm glad that Calvin knows the difference between a toy and a weapon. Mainly because a gun is what killed our mother.
I stop walking, and shake my head. I don't want to think about that right now. I don't want to think about my mother. But the image of the last time I saw her keeps coming back to me.
It was in the fighting arena. I remember the bag being pulled back from my head. I remember the light shining in my eyes and hurting. I remember blinking, and finding her shocked face in the audience. I remember her holding Calvin close to her. I remember the shooting and the smoke, and her disappearing in the chaos. I would never see her ever again. Only under a pile of earth. I can only stare at her grave.
I start walking again, not bothering that I can't even see my own feet. Just keep walking. I touch the wall every few minutes, just to know that I'm walking in a straight line. When I don't feel anything, I know I need to go around a corner. I don't care where I'm going. If it's just away from all those people, everything's good with me.
The prison is getting more crowded every single day, and it drives me nuts. It's like Rick's trying to build some kind of new Atlanta. A new city, with elderly people, children, a few teenagers, two farmers, a doctor, a chef, two homeless people, a supermarket manager, a shrink, a high school teacher, a junky, a retired soldier, a baker's wife and all led by a sheriff. Doesn't that sound like an amazing new Nickelodeon-concept?
I smirk to myself, and I'm beginning to return back to the land of the living. Especially when I hear a soft murmuring. I lift an eyebrow, and stop walking to listen more closely.
"…know what they're doing" is what I hear. It sounds like someone's having a conversation with someone else.
"….all gone. Yeah, I know. Crazy, right? What? No way!"
It sounds like someone is talking on the phone. I haven't seen a phone around here. Nowhere.
I recognize the voice immediately, and slowly sneak closer. It comes from behind one of the doors, which looks like the ones leading to a cellblock. It's opened for just a peek, and I look through it. I see no one directly, and think I might have been wrong. But then she starts talking again.
"Really? Ask him in. He probably wants to meet you. Oh, sorry. Of course. Sorry, very sorry. Still need to get used to the 'you-not-really-being-here'- thing. I'll ask him myself!"
From the corner of my eye, I see an arm being reached out between the bars of a cell. I recognize the thin bony arms as Vicky's. She really needs to learn how to eat properly. The main reason people don't hang around her, is of course because she's not 'normal'. But the second is her appearance.
"Come on in, whoever you are!" she says, and I feel spooked. It feels like she's speaking directly to me, but she can't even see me. I don't know what to do. Just…stay here, I guess?
"You don't have to hide! C'mon, come here and talk to me. I could use some company!"
I sigh, and open the door fully. I look around again, but there really is no one else beside the two of us.
I walk closer, and see Vicky frowning surprised as she sees me. "Hey. Didn't expect you to come visit me."
I put my hands awkwardly in the pockets of my jeans. "Visit? You're not in the hospital, or something."
Vicky rolls with her eyes, as if I said something stupid. "But I am in a prison. For real now. I've been a very bad girl, you know."
I lift an eyebrow. "What did you do? Lock yourself in again?"
Vicky shakes her head seriously, even though it was meant sarcastically. "You might wanna sit down, before you jump through the roof because of my awesome story."
"Ok" I sigh, and sit down, not to close to the gate. Since the incident before she lost her memory, I don't trust her anymore. "What did you do?"
"I beat the crap out of that shrink" she says, as she sits up to lean with her back against the wall. I widen my eyes.
"Yup" she nods, and pulls her knees up her chest. "I said I didn't need help, but he didn't get the memo. So I told him the hard way."
I shake my head, but can't help but to smile a little. The optimistic tone in her voice is something I've been wanting to hear for a long time. "That's…one way to put it. So now you locked yourself in, because you can't handle the guilt?"
Vicky chuckles. "Pff, of course not. That's something you would do, but not me." I purse my lips, and Vicky shrugs. "It's true."
"I've heard worse things" I mumble, but Vicky ignores it.
"Daryl locked me in, after he caught me fighting, and he's been doing other stuff. Probably convincing Carol and Will to keep their mouths shut so I can stay here."
The way she said it makes it sound like it's something stupid.
"It sounds like you don't really care if they keep their mouths shut or not."
"Well, I don't" she replies, going with her hand through her red hair, revealing a small wound on the back. "Would be pretty interesting to see what happens."
She then smirks, and I lift an eyebrow again. "What do you mean?"
Vicky shrugs, and smiles mysteriously. "Haven't had any fun around here for a long time since the Governor flew. We need some more action around this place. I miss that. There used to be so much tension here. It's getting boring here."
I frown. "Is that really the reason? To cause chaos?"
"I guess" Vicky mumbles, scratching at the back of her head, where the wound is. I don't ask about it.
"That's very selfish of you" I say, and Vicky looks me straight in the eyes. I can't help the thought that her eyes used to be so pretty when I first met her. But the cloudy glance is covering them, which makes her look like a whole different person.
"Maybe it is, maybe it isn't. I don't want that shrink guy around. I don't want Rick bringing in new people. You people are treating this prison like it's your home, but you're forgetting that I am the one you took you in my home. And now you're making it yours. I've said this a couple times, but nobody listened. Maybe now they will."
Having this said, Vicky turns away from me to scratch some mud from her once white sneakers. I'm silent for a while, thinking about it. Some of the things she said sound reasonable to me, but violence is never the option. It just isn't. There is no excuse for beating somebody up.
Not even the fact that the people you took in and took care of use your home as their own and make decisions about it without you even being there. But then again; she keeps leaving. Going out in the woods on her own, and still expecting the prison to be her home?
I stand up, patting some dust of my jeans. Vicky looks up when I clear my throat. "Still; very selfish."
I turn around to walk away again, but she calls me. "You don't happen to have a pen on you, do you?"
Dear, dear Diary,
Just spoke to two boys. I know, I'm a slut. No, just kidding.
I first talked to Freddie. I hadn't seen him in a very long time. I think he's OK. I apologized for not being able to save him, but he said it was cool. He was just happy to see that I'm still alive. He also said that being dead isn't as bad as it looks. You can go spook around and sometimes freak people out. It sounds kinda like me.
But talking to Freddie felt different, for some reason. I sometimes bump into Merle, who is fucking annoying. That is one reason why it is different talking to Freddie instead of that stupid redneck. But it still felt different, as if Freddie wasn't very much here. I felt it before, I think it has something to do with the person being walker or not. Merle became a walker, but Daryl killed him after. Maybe Freddie turned, but hasn't been killed yet. I should tell him that. Or maybe not. I don't really know if he wants to know.
Still cool we can talk like old friends. He's still awkward as he always was being alive, and he's still a crappy writer, but he's my friend. Probably one of my few friends.
I still have Danny, though. He doesn't like the things I do, like smashing up the shrink's face, but I caught him smiling while I was telling my story. I feel there's still something between us. Friendship, friendzone, or love. I dunno. He lend me a pen, and I'm sure as hell gonna keep it. He ain't getting this back. It's my personal souvenir from him.
Since I broke my other pencil (I tried to make a boomerang from it, so I can protect myself when walkers get in. It didn't work, though. It's lying somewhere at the other end of the cellblock, because it wouldn't come back to me) I couldn't write in this beautiful diary. Not that I missed it. But hey, it's one way to keep me sane. It's better than to talk to dead people, right?
The reason why I couldn't grab my pencil, is because I'm locked up, like a real prisoner. I made the shrink a little uglier than he already was, and now everyone's pissed at me and at each other. Quite a shame I can't be there to see them screaming at each other, because they don't know what to do.
Rick obviously wants me dead. He doesn't want me around this prison anymore, since I 'threatened' his son. OK, I did want to kick him in the balls for shooting me, but I changed my mind. A little. Maybe I'll slap him in the face. But not like I did with the shrink. Carl's been my friend since the beginning. I helped him save his mom, I helped save Hershel. Man, Hershel. He must be very disappointed in me. Like he is in Rick. I saw him looking at the sheriff when I was hiding out in the woods. Hershel looked concerned and worried towards Rick. But Rick's going his own way, not taking care of anyone in particular. He seems to think that he needs to take care of all of the prison in general, and all the people in it. He's becoming another Governor, and Hershel sees it too.
Rick's even abandoning his son, who's becoming a murderous piece of crap, just like his father. Maybe talking to me changes him. Maybe Carl will learn how not to become like me or his father. I think I should be that shrink, and not that other idiot.
I helped Rick once. He was talking to people who weren't really there, and since that's kinda my trick, I slapped him in the face, and he turned back to reality. I don't remember him thanking me for that. The bastard. He's losing it. Totally. I can see it in his eyes. It's too much for the guy. Hershel and I seem to be the only ones seeing it. Daryl maybe too. Carl's babysitter. Poor guy.
The stupid hunter doesn't belong between these ugly walls, which really need to be painted. Rick is dragging everyone around him in that stupid depression of his. Daryl is getting claustrophobic, Hershel can't sleep because of worries about Rick, Carl is becoming a psychopath because that's what he thinks is right. As my life motto is right now; I may be crazy, but I'm not stupid. If an idiot like me can see these things, why can't they?
Now they're judging my fate. They're going to decide what to do with me. Well, Rick is. I don't see him debating with others. Or maybe he will, after Daryl has told him what happened. And Rick will drag it out like this horrible(but amazing) story before he tells it to the others. He'll probably make them vote, and of course, they'll all send me away. Except for Beth, because she's my friend too. But I don't know what she's going to do after hearing Rick's 'horrible' story about me beating the shit out of an innocent man. Really, no regrets.
Maybe Glenn and Maggie will have their doubts too. They promised me to be their bridesmaid, and they're not sending they're bridesmaid out in the wilderness, are they?
Maybe I've got it at the wrong end. Maybe Rick isn't telling anybody, and is he sending Daryl away to hunt or some shit. Maybe he'll come to me tonight, and shoot me in the face. That's a shame. Perhaps I can convince him to throw me in a walker pit, or something, so that my death still is exciting like I always wanted. If he really is a man with a heart, he'll probably let me do it myself. Unless he hates me that much, that he'll push me himself. I need a cool last word, something he'll remember.
'Amazing turtle dance.'
'Kentucky Fried Chicken'
'Winter is coming'
'I'm the hero Gotham deserves…'
'I'm a Barbie-girl, in a Barbie-world'
'Glitter is the new black'
'Banana's in pyjama's'
That's all I could think of. I'll probably choose one when the moment is there. I'll look him straight in the eyes, and keep watching him as the walkers tear me apart. Sounds awesome! Can't wait!
O man, I heard some footsteps, and look who's there! As if we're speaking of the devil. Wearing a sheriff hat!
I cross my arms over my chest as I lean against the wall. My right hands touches a scar on my left arm, and smirk at it. It was a wound Vicky made when we first met. I shot an arrow at her, and she caught it and throw it back when I didn't let her in the cellblock. Carol had prevented me from killing her. I wasn't happy with that at first, but later, when it turned out Vicky and I were quite a good team in a lot of things, I almost thanked her for it.
But now, three months later, I'm not so sure. She did a lot of good things, but also a lot of bad ones. Things I could've prevented. In the long run, it seems like things would've turned out better if Vicky hadn't been there.
Thinking of killing her now….I'm not sure if I can pull the trigger.
I told Rick last night. About what happened. I thought I needed to wait a little, and just let Carol keep her mouth shut as she took care of Will. I just wanted Rick to think things were OK, and meet him when he was in a good mood. Maybe that would change his judgement a little. And his judgement is important nowadays. People look at him like the leader, even though he's just another guy trying to stay alive.
But I was wrong. Rick's more pissed than ever. He's called all of the original people who stayed at the prison first. The people Vicky took in, and Sasha and Tyreese, who also know Vicky a bit.
We're all together in some sort of cafeteria, sitting at tables. I don't feel like sitting. I've been sitting for way too long. I'm not letting Rick babysit his stupid kid any longer.
Rick clears his throat and stands forward, facing the group. "I think we can all guess why we're here?"
Carol bows her head. I can't imagine how she feels. She liked the shrink guy, even though he's a weirdo. But he didn't deserve a screwed up face.
Carol cares about Vicky, but when she pulls things like this…
"Vicky has attacked one of our people," Rick continues. "His name's Will. His injuries aren't very dangerous, but his nose is broken and his face swollen. He hasn't broken any ribs, but breathing is hard for him. Will is a shrink, and Vicky has attacked him because he was trying to help."
Beth looks shocked, looking at her father for confirmation. But Hershel doesn't know how to react either. Glenn blinks his eyes confused. He's been one of the people that wanted Vicky to stay in the prison in the beginning. He saw the good in her, but that has changed, just like with everybody else. Michonne shakes her head and sighs. She hasn't had the best band with Vicky, but she still looks disappointed somehow.
"I've been thinking about what to do now all night" Rick says when the message has reached everyone. "I don't want to decide this on my own. I have some issues with Vicky, which do not concern all of you. I'll talk that out with her on my own."
"Sure" I mumble. "Talk."
Rick doesn't hear it, or he's at least pretending not to. He looks around the group.
"I'd like to hear some suggestions from you."
It keeps silent for a while, as we're all thinking about what to do. I'd say we talk it out with Vicky, and let her decide what to do. Knowing her, she'll just keep living the way she did before, not really caring what people will think of her. But I don't see any of these people agreeing with that idea.
"I think we should send her away" Sasha says to Rick. "Blindfold her, drive a few miles out to Macon or something."
"She'll find her way back in just two days if we do that" I mumble, and she turns around. "She's been living in this prison for almost a year. She's been going out by herself for six months to get supplies. Trust me, she'll come back here."
Some of the people nod, like Glenn. It surprises me when I notice a grin on his face, as if it reminds him of something.
"You can't kill her either" Beth suddenly says, with a high voice. Rick turns his head to her, with narrowed eyes. "Because that's what she want."
"What do you mean?" Rick asks slowly. Beth licks her lips nervously.
"Remember her saying to you that you were creating another Woodbury? If you'll kill her, it's just as she said. Killing her is something the Governor would do. If you do that, you'll only admit that she was right all along."
Rick rubs his eyes, and puts a hand on his hip. "Any other suggestions?"
"I agree with Beth" Daniel says. I turn my head to the other side of the room. That kid's always seemed like a scared little boy. Now, he looks like a tired and depressed little boy. But one who knows what he's talking about. "You'll only give her satisfaction, and I don't see that as a punishment. But the thing is; what we're doing here right now, is also bringing her satisfaction. Ever since she met you guys, she's enjoyed the drama around you. She's been missing the action, and by doing things like this…she tries to bring that back. Us debating about this…it's something she enjoys."
Rick sighs, and nods. He really doesn't know what to do.
"We should let her stand trial" Hershel says, before anyone else opens his mouth. "Like we did before this all happened. Like a real civilised community." He looks at his youngest daughter with pride in his eyes. "That is something the Governor wouldn't do. If we don't want to become like him, we have to do it this way."
Rick looks at the old man, and then at me. I try not to smile. This is better than just killing her.
"Ok, a trial" Rick repeats, almost sighing. Hershel nods, and Maggie puts up her hand, like in school.
"But…before we do that, we need a prosecutor" she points out. "Will is the victim, and he'll need a lawyer of some sort. Eyewitnesses, and a judge. A jury, maybe."
"We'll figure something out" Rick says, and he looks tired as hell. "Do we all agree on going to trial with this?"
I see most people nodding, and Rick sighs, but this time, it sounds relieved. It surprises me.
All this time, I thought he wanted Vicky dead. Out of here, to get rid of her. He says he's been thinking about it all night, but I didn't believe him at first. But now, seeing him with a slight smile on his face, that thought changes.
Rick doesn't want to kill Vicky. He doesn't.
It hits me, and I feel stupid that I couldn't see it before. I don't see how a trial is going to change anything for Vicky nor Will, but if Rick thinks it's the best way to do this….I'm all in. What Rick says, goes.
I help Will sit up, carefully. His chest has been hurting for days, but it's getting better. Michonne managed to sneak out and get some strong morphine for him. I'm really grateful for that. And so is Will.
"So, what have you come up with for Vicky?" Will asks. I've told him that Rick wanted to debate about it, and he seems curious to know what we think is best.
"We're going to give her a trial" I answer, and Will lifts his eyebrows above his glasses.
"As in…with a judge? That is odd."
I nod. "It may is, but we think this is the right thing to do." I scratch behind my ear. Rick asked me to ask Will about it, but I don't know how to start. "And since Vicky is the suspect in the case, so to speak, it means that you're the victim…"
"…and the prosecutor" Will nods.
"Yes…do you want to prosecute against Vicky?" I ask, and Will purses his lips, thinking about it. Then, to my surprise, he shakes his head.
"No, I do not want any interference in this matter. I have underestimated Vicky's mental state, and her denial for mental support. I have been wrong, and so has she. I think that breaking my nose wasn't the best way to let me know, but she did say she didn't want help. I think we are square, so to speak."
I can't believe what I'm hearing, and widen my eyes. "How can you…not hate her for what she did to you?"
Will smiles sweet, and lays a hand on my knee. "Carol, you need to understand one thing; I've been a psychiatrist for some years, but that doesn't mean I know everything. I should've seen that Vicky is….a hopeless case."
"What? What do you mean?"
Will pushes his glasses a little further up his broken nose. "I think that the best way to explain this, is to say it like this; Vicky is too far gone. There is nobody who can help her. I was too eager to help her, that I didn't see it. This is a failure of mine, not hers. If she had been in this state in the world before the walkers, she probably would've been locked up in an asylum. But there are no such things anymore. The best thing you can do for her, is send her away, or lock her up. Nobody can help her anymore."