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Red Blood On White Paint Makes Pink

I sat in the backseat of the van as Glenn drove down the dirt path, the vehicle shaking as it ran over rocks and stones. The Greene Farm wasn't far from where the RV was parked, marked with a cute looking letterbox and pure white fence.

Glenn pulled up by the porch, switching off the van with a twist of the key and hopping out quickly. He paced around the truck to open the door for T-Dog, half carrying him towards the glowing house, lights casting warm pools in the orange sky. The white structure was so clean, so untouched by today's world, it looked like a place I could pretend was safe. If I could ignore the sticky drops of blood leading from the porch steps into the house. Carl's blood.

"Did you close the gate when you drove up?" I heard a familiar voice ask, the question breaking my fearful daze. It was the woman who picked Lori up earlier, her large round eyes looking us up and down as we stepped up to the house. The way her lips curled up at the corners gave off an air of amusement, not to mention the quirk in her eyebrows as she shuffled forward in her seat.

"Uh...hi." Glenn simply replied, her eyes wide as they met with hers.

"We closed it." I finished for him, as Glenn appeared stunned by the girl. His lips were turned up in a smile of awe and he could barely string two words together.

He began to stutter , trying to form any kind of sentence to suggest getting T-Dog some help. If I wasn't so worried I definitely would've laughed at him and the bewildered expression on his face. She kindly directed T-Dog inside, saying they could take a look at his arm.

As she opened the door I glanced through the crack, my stare focused on the room just to the left of it. In there was a metal bed frame, pale sheets covering the even paler boy laying on it.

Carl.

My eyes welled up with tears and my lip trembled uncontrollably as I raced forward, my whimpers muffled by the rapid footfalls. I couldn't bare to see him like this, it hurt even just to think about, but he looked like he needed help. My help.

"Hey, sweetheart," An arm across my chest stopped my movements, "he needs some space right now, okay? His family, too."

The woman smiled down at me sympathetically, noticing the tears in my eyes. The amusement had melted away completely, replaced with something a lot more genuine.

"Why don't we go sit in here, I'll get you some food and we can wait until he wakes up." She led me into a room on the other side of the door, placing me down on a couch and getting me a blanket. My head fell onto the back of the seat in exhaustion, feeling something rough against my cheek.

My fingers reached behind and pulled the fabric in front of my eyes, revealing Carl's jacket. There were spots of blood on the front and back as well as black burns from the bullet, but that's not what I took notice of. The red seemed to blend in, but not the purple of the delicate flower resting in the pocket.

I pulled out the dried up flower, brushing the crumpled petals lightly. It tickled my palm as I held it, the stem curled from the lack of water.

The woman came back and sat next to me, placing a cup of water in my hand that she encouraged me to drink. "I'm Maggie, what's your name?" She asked nicely.

I took a few sips before setting the cup down, my fingers tugging at the blanket shrouding my arms. "Annabelle. But most people call me Belle." I sniffled, wiping at my nose.

"That's a pretty name." Maggie smiled as she cast a glance over her shoulder, peering through the open door to the other end of the hallway. "Is that your friend in there?"