I stared up at the man wearing an eyepatch and I reached out to him while I groaned in pain. I had been bitten by a wild dog and couldn’t move at all, my leg was tattered and I had a bite wound on the side of my hip.
"Looks like you’re not doing too well," the man said.
"Who are you?" I asked softly.
"They call me the Governor. But I’m no one to you," he said, aiming the gun at me.
"Please, I can be of use. It’s not a walker bite, it’s a fucking dog bite. Please don’t shoot me," I said softly. He took the safety off of it, not moving the gun away.
"Sorry sweetheart, I can’t trust that," he said easily.
"Please…" I started to cry, realizing he was going to shoot me. "Please don’t shoot me." He held the gun next to my head as I tried to lash out at him, but he held my hands down and shook his head.
"I’m putting you out of your misery," he said.
"No, fuck! Please!" I started to thrash now, kicking him with my good leg and trying to get away. He chuckled softly and licked his lips.
"You’re better off dead darlin’." A shot, and that was the end of my life.
why is it that everyone can be an asshole towards me and that’s perfectly fine but the minute i have had enough and act like an asshole its all of a sudden not okay