» Time Is Dancing « | » Carl Grimes «

» WHAT WE BECOME PT.1 «

Her Ghost

I woke up to a light pattering on my face, delicate fingertips brushing the tender skin with care and precision. The smell of smoke seemed to cling to my clothes, my hands sticky with drying blood that gave off a metallic odour. I could taste it on my tongue, the bitterness mingling with my tastebuds in a way that made me wince.

The bright sun shone through my eyelids, tinted orange as blurry leaves danced across my vision. It was strange to hear the birds tweeting along with the rustle of bushes, the sound piercing to my weak eardrums.

'Huh, I must be outside.'

A harsh gasp shot from my lips, my eyes snapping open in a flustered panic as I scanned the area.

"Lie down, you're hurt." A gentle voice shushed my shuddering breaths, the innocent face of my daughter staring back at me as I scurried around on the forest floor.

My brain was filled with a cotton wool confusion, clouding any rational thoughts that tried to help me figure things out. Like how I got here, what happened while I was out, how long had I been out?

"I fell asleep?" I muttered breathlessly, my eyes full of fear. How stupid of me to fall asleep in the middle of the woods, leaving my only child to care for herself while Whisperers and walkers hunted for us.

Heather nodded, her lips pressed together in a smile. "You passed out, so I waited for you." She shrugged, her fingers knotting together. "It's no big deal, I killed two walkers."

I could see them now, the decomposing bodies just a few feet away from us. One of them had several bloody holes in its neck and chest, apparently where her aim had been less than successful.

"Come on, we gotta find the others." I groaned as I got to my feet, the aching in my muscles making them stiff and painful. It looked to be about noon based on the brightness of the sun, meaning that most people should've arrived at the rendezvous point by now. I wouldn't be surprised if we were the last ones there.

"You can't, I'm not done yet." Heather insisted, leaping up to my side with her bag. She dug around for a moment before retrieving a bandage, peeling off the adhesive cover and sticking it on the bridge of my nose. "Okay, let's go."

I breathed out a short chuckle, my grin faltering slightly. "How do I look?" I wondered. It felt like my face was completely numb, except for the centre which was apparently on fire.

"You look like shit." She replied, her features twisting apologetically at the sight of my scolding eyes.

"There's a couple bruises there," Heather lightly pointed to the right side of my face, "and it's kinda purple...here." She waved a hand over my nose, a finger gesturing to my eyes and cheeks, too.

"You got some cuts on your nose and I think it's broken, but I can't tell." She shrugged, taking my hand in hers and marching through the trees. "We can ask Rosita when we find her."

My fingers gently prodded at my face, the injured part stinging at the slightest touch. The stitches on my arm had surprisingly held up even with all its use, and the tape protecting my broken fingers had been stained with blood and grime but they seemed to be healing properly. "You're right. I probably do look like shit."

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I could almost feel the energy draining with each step I took, my lips persistently parted in an effort to breathe more satisfying breaths.

"Mom, I'm tired." A whiny voice dragged on my hand, each syllable drawn out and exhausted. It had been a long day of constant walking, and that coupled with the previous nights battle was starting to make an effect.