✧ ཻུ۪۪. love is the most beautiful of dreams ,
and the worst of nightmares . . .
the walking dead | seasons 4 - 8
( carl grimes x fem!oc )
❁ ↷
12/20/20 & 6/17/22 - #1 in chanderriggs
5/26/22 & 1/2...
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NO ONE LIKED TO BE CALLED WEAK.
As, being weak was one of the many things forbidden in their world. It was a description that would earn the living a one way ticket to greet death, an entity patiently waiting on the sidelines, for a scrap of those breathing souls, whom fought to ignore its looming threat.
Ella Samuels had often wondered what it would be like, to have a nonexistent struggle with that thought. How much of her life would change, if she would no longer have to battle that weak part of herself. The part in which stared, and did nothing, as the world she once knew began to crumble around her. To be able to change from the person who watched their parents die, without having a clue how to save them — to the type who abandoned their two little sisters, when they needed her most.
When the fall happened, Ella had been barely twelve years old. Twelve years, where she would remain unaware as of how it felt, to be truly weak.
A little girl in a cruel world was not meant to last very long.
And yet, here she was, heart still beating.
It should have happened long ago. There was a moment in time which had made her realize that much, where Ella was welcomed with the harsh reality that would forever taunt her remaining years. It had occurred just a few short days after the military arrived on their suburban street, sinking the facts of their situation into the community.
At first, the pandemic was not a threat her parents fretted too much over. It was merely a topic constant news channels dragged on about, as the family would talk over their evening dinner, with the background television turning into muffled, useless sound. Living on the outskirts of Jacksonville had its perks, after all — that they would be one of the last ones, to have a meeting with the dead.
