Break Me |✧Negan 🍯

2• A dud, of course

-What the fuck just happened?

An almighty ass fuck of megaton proportions, that's what happened.

-What should I do?

Sit the fuck down, take a deep breath, and pull your shit together.

-But I-...

But nothin'! There ain't a use tuggin' on your short and curlies, so do what the fuck you need to do to make it out of this shit-fest.

- Thanks, Abe.

The end of the world happened so fast.

Bam!

Dead motherfuckers that will eat you alive.

And this shituation was happening faster than the toilet paper vanished.

Rick had given me up.

It finally hit me after the dirty little nail on my index finger tore ninety degrees with a wet squelch.

Rick had given me up.

And as it saluted like a fleshy pink surfer on a sea of mottled mayonnaise, I realised clawing the doors of this shit-scented van wouldn't get me anywhere.

Because Rick...had given me up.

I listened to the cackles of the driver who sounded like some methed up goblin, snorts and all, the radio hissing on long dead frequencies while he drummed to some heavy metal riff.

And like the little voice told me to do, I sat my ass down and breathed.

But I couldn't pull my shit together. Nope.

BECAUSE RICK H-...

I shook away the termite infestation nibbling my brain, there was no other choice. I knew that.
But seriously, I thought...why me?
Pregnant? No.
Married? No.
Boyfriend? No.
Oh...
Why not Daryl?

...fucking Eugene! Me. Over Eugene?

I waited.
But Abes voice was deathly silent, and I had a feeling I couldn't shake.
No matter what happened, life would really suck balls until the blue eyed sheriff popped his head from his ass and did some positive goddamn action.

I was glad I didn't have a bag over my head because at this rate I'd have suffocated on my own vomit.

The drive to where-ever this evil snot-yogurt laid his fat head was long and bumpy and twisting and winding and my head throbbed like a magnitude 8 bitch.

I tried desperately to remember each hairpin bend and breakneck turn, but it was all just so useless, I could barely remember my own name.
Whoever was racing this Jeepers Creepers pervert van made me want to scream.

Murder was obviously a pastime in Negan's magical dream land, because they were all so...happy.

"Motherfuckin' apocalypse, motherfuckin' ugly-." My lips seized in a blue and withered O, "ugh." I couldn't even be bothered talking to myself.

Instead, I poked my head through my knees to fight the nausea punching my stomach.

'Eenie, meenie, miney, moe...' The son of a bitch, he'd grinned like the joker.