'god loves you, but not enough to save you.' ethel cain.

season 2, episode 7
pretty much dead already

Day 71

Observing the morning sky, as the sun returned to their side of the globe to release them of the terrors that came with darkness, Alyson tucked her arms under her knees. Autumn chills brushed across her body. Luckily, Isaac's sweatshirt kept her warm.

There was something taunting about the simplicity of the sun. No one could ever near it without facing an excruciating consequence. It was a bystander to the havoc that ensued on Earth. It was blessed with the ability to be forever safe from harm, but cursed with forever being alone. It would destroy anything that fell complaint to curiosity, to venture into the wonders of the blistering star.

Some days, Alyson felt like the sun. As if she was just a watcher to the chaos that occurred in front of her. She had no control. Everything that would happen was designed to happen by God-he created the obstacles in her path and formulated the perfect reactions according to his image of her. And that scared her.

The Bible said that 'thou may choose for thyself, for it is given to thee,' but if God created everyone in his image, flaws and perfections, he had molded them in a way that dictates their life for good. He had, whether he knew it or not, created them with a plan subconsciously embedded into them. He gave them temptations with the desire to yearn for them; he drew them their limit before they no longer cared to be seen as a sinner, deciding to indulge in sins.

Did God create her with care or carelessness? Did he purposefully give her the mind of a sinner with limits so thin that she might as well have been bathing in the fires of Hell from birth?

Her father enforced the idea that loving one of the same sex was a sin, and those who did were a disgrace. But Alyson had seen it as contradicting. If they were to love thy neighbor as you love yourself, who they loved should not matter? It was just love, how could love be a sin if it was created by God himself?

Did any of it even matter now?

God rained Hell on Earth, sending the dead to be his servants for all the sins his children committed. Did it matter to be scared to sin if her punishment would be the same as any other sin at this point?

"Greetin' the sun this mornin'?" the kind voice of Hershel Greene inquired, joining Alyson on the hill near Otis' grave.

She peered over her knees to look at him. She couldn't muster a smile in front of a man of God. "I guess."

He remained vertical, closing his eyes as he bathed in the morning rays. Golden hues of glory greeted them. Illuminating the land from behind the towering trees, the sun lit their side of the Earth as it always had and always will.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

"The lack of demand lowered the cost to zero," she joked, half-wanting someone to talk to and the other half wishing to never speak again.

Hershel remained quiet. He actually wanted to hear her thoughts.

Alyson hid her shock well. A man of such tradition and faith wanted to hear her. Very few people, regardless of tradition and faith, wanted that. Much like how she treated Daryl Dixon, they assumed her ideas. And much like her notions of Dixon, they were wrong.

"How often do you read the scriptures?"

"As much as I can." His hands found home in his pockets. "Why do you ask?"

Her nose dipped between her knees, pressing against the fabric of the sweatshirt. "Can God truly love his children if we are sinners?"

A sharp inhale sounded from Hershel. Alyson didn't dare to look in his direction. The silence was deafening. Grass shifted as a presence hovered beside her. She dared.

Hershel sat beside her, gazing at the sun. "If we claim to be without sin, we make him out to be a liar and his word is not in us."

The verse sounded familiar. It was one of the many Alyson brought up to her father, questioning his teaches that opposed the word of God. "John 1:10."

She quickly learned that her thoughts were not supposed to be spoken; that the devil had taken control of her tongue and mind to make her think against her father. Her thoughts needed to stem from his, but her mind was a replication of her mother's.

That was a problem of its own.

"God loves all his children," Hershel told Alyson. Belief screamed in his words just as her father's had.

Alyson stared at him with the side of her head resting on her knees. "Put to death, therefore, whatever belongs to your earthly nature: sexual immorality, impurity, lust, evil desires and greed, which is idolatry. Because of these, the wrath of God is coming."

Hershel sighed. "If you are willin' to own up to your sins and repent, God will not punish you. He is forgivin' and understands."

Facing forward, the sun peers over the trees, bringing light to the land. "Why did he create us with temptations that he knew we would fall for?"

Hershel didn't respond with swiftness. He took in her question, choosing his words carefully. "'Cause we're human." She turned to him. "Temptations, desires, they make us who we are, but do not define us."

Humans are complex. Every action displayed to them impacts their life from the moment they are born. Every word leaves a trace to the growing brain. In terms of science, all things just were. It could not be created or destroyed, it just was. Everything formulated from what was already there; the chemicals and complexity of the human brain forged emotions, thoughts, and beliefs.

In terms of religion, there needed to be a reason. Or everything would be revealed to be a lie.

"Alyson," Hershel called, regaining her attention. Her jaw tightened, feeling everything swell inside. "It is okay to not take every word to heart. Our beliefs are our own to form, not force."

There were so many Why's Alyson wanted to ask. She wanted to inspect his faith and adapt it to her own, but that contradicted what he was trying to teach her. Everything he said went against everything she knew.

But it paired well with everything she truly believed.

"Who taught you about the bible?" Hershel dared to ask.

Alyson wish he hadn't. She hadn't felt obligated to confess to him, but the words fell out. "My father."

And kept falling.

"He would tell my brothers and I that we were sinners. If we went against the Bible, or...or we did something he didn't like, we-we were going to burn." Her hands cradled her arms, rubbing them gently. She looked at Hershel with glossed eyes. "I don't want to burn, sir."

A confession. Unlike the others, Alyson felt no shame telling Hershel the truth. It was only him, a kind soul who lived his life, who understood. All she wanted was for someone to understand.

In a world of confusion-before and now-all people needed was someone to understand. Someone to reveal the truth to, without fear or hesitation. For someone to know her like she knew herself.

But that meant she needed to uncover herself. To take off her skin, rip out her muscles until she was all bone. Years and years of her skin hardening for protection, she couldn't even try to scratch at it without breaking her fingers. It wasn't a confession. Alyson was being exposed.

"I'm sorry," she muttered, raising to her feet. She kept her head down, unable to meet his gentle eyes. The words on her tongue were incomprehensible, not even she understood.

Alyson walked towards the barn, shoving her hair from her reddened face. The air was cold. It reminded her of ice-cold water. Kept in a fridge. Kept in a cooler. Added with ice. Surrounded by ice. With each ragged inhale, it traveled down to her lungs, leaving a streak of frost that would never be forgotten. Every inhale afterward wasn't the same as the first; just like every sip would never be as cold as the first.

It no longer felt cold. It was just air. Just another breath in. Just another breath out.

"God did not give you to me for you to be weak. Quinn's are not weak."

The only exception was Alyson's mother. But she was only a Quinn by marriage. She had no DNA that made her strong. She didn't last long for a reason, according to Alyson's father. How cold he became after she left. No, he wasn't cold. He was a starving fire. Alyson couldn't recall a time when he wasn't a constant blaze. Not even a time when he was a small flame.

Alyson's palm rested against the bark of a tree as she came across Sadie. The air felt cold again. She was lost in her wonderland in their tent when Alyson left her. At least that's what Alyson hoped. The only time Alyson-or anyone else-couldn't read Sadie's emotions were when she was asleep. Did she ever dream? Alyson didn't know if she hoped Sadie did or didn't. If she did, she could be far from reality. If she didn't, she was stuck forever.

Sadie hadn't noticed the girl watching her from behind. She shifted her stance as she released her knife for a split second before grabbing it again. With one movement of her wrist to ready herself, she threw her knife. It landed on the bullseye.

Her improvement in four days was too quick from the few times Alyson caught her practicing. But Sadie had motivation. She woke up at dawn and practiced.

An unsatisfied groan came from her before she stomped to retrieve her weapon. She pulled it from the weaving, turning to repeat but stopped. "Where'd you go?"

"Wanted to see the sunrise."

A pout formed. "Why didn't you invite me?"

Alyson allowed a miniscule smile to appear. "You needed sleep."

"For what? To stay up and fold clothes, or listen to Dale's stories?" she asked rhetorically, her lips were parted by a smile she couldn't resist. "'Cause both send me to sleep regardless."

Alyson rolled her eyes, trying not to laugh at the terrible joke. "Whatever. When'd you start taking this more seriously?" She nodded towards the worn-out target, with multiple indents from Sadie and previous users.

"Yesterday." Her voice held no pain of the events from yesterday. She used it to her advantage. She used it to motivate herself. "I'm like, a pro now, or something."

"Uh-huh." Alyson started back towards camp.

"Way to put a girl down."

Sadie jogged beside Alyson, staring at her face. There might have been signs of tears but Sadie didn't question it. She just understood.

The two found the others starting their morning in silence, lost in their own minds. Alyson snatched a leftover apple, taking a seat beside Isaac. One glance at him and you would have thought he was just tired. One long stare told Alyson it was so much more than that.

"Um, Guys. So, barn's full of walkers."