Are You Sure?

Chapter 2

The girl above is a picture I found on the internet and I imagine her as Emma^^

Carl's P.O.V.
This girl in front of me is Emma Grace Dwyer. The girl in the second grade who sat in the front of the class. Her big blue eyes always focused on the board and her long straight brown hair always tied up in a red ribbon. Not anymore. Her long brown hair was uneven and far down past her tail bone. Her bright blue eyes; concealed by her eyelids and thick lashes. Man--,

My reminiscing was interrupted by Enid.

"Carl, she's waking up."
I quickly turned my head toward her. I took off my hat and put it over her face to block the sun off of her cold face and blue lips. She is cold. And her finger tips are blue. I put a long blanket over her early, but it hasn't worked. She slowly opened her eyes. And then started coughing, a lot.

"Emma..?" I whispered, " Emma. Look at me. It's me. Carl?"
Enid plastered a rude look on her face and came in close beside us. "Wait she knows you?"
I ignored her and waved my hand to shoo her away.

The cold beads of sweat dripped down her creased forehead. I push the hair that swept over her face by the wind, behind her ear.

"Shit.." She whispered. What? "He remembers me." She said

"What?" I asked. "What?" She countered.
"I didn't say that out loud." She stated.
"Yes, you did." I said, becoming a bit embarrassed.
She quickly looked up at me. "Man! I just don't have a filter." She yelled.
"Help me up?" She asked.
"Yeah." I held out my hand and she gripped it, tight. I could see the blood lining where she obviously wrapped her hand around a gun tightly.
As she stood up she started to stumble. I grabbed her before she could fall. And she got up quickly, pushing me off.

"Hershel!" She yelled. How does she know Hershel?
And why does she not know he is dead?

"Her--!" She started to yell again before I cut her off.
I place my hand gently on her shoulder and said, "He's- he's dead..."

Her shoulders dropped, eyes closed, and she fell back down to her knees. Her shoulders shrugged with each sob. I knelt down beside her.
She saw me and asked, "How long?"
"What?"
"How long..?" She said with a hint of annoyance and anger.
"Almost two years, it's been a year and a half.." I looked down and picked my hat up off the ground. Looking at it in laying in my dirty hands.
" A year and a half? No. No NO NO!!" Her quiet whispers to herself turned into loud screams of pure agony.
I'm curious to know how she knew Hershel, but obviously it is not the right time to ask.

"Maggie?!"
She knows Maggie? How? When? I know this girl. The apocalypse started when I was in 7th grade. She left in 3rd grade. Well, we never spoke after she left, or when she was there for that matter. Well, not much.

"Maggie!" She yelled again.
"Would you shut up!?" Enid yelled at her with her arms cross.
"What the hell Enid?" I turned toward her.
"She's gonna attract the Roamers!" She yelled.
"Walkers." Emma said, "They're called Walkers."
I couldn't help but laugh.
Enid gave me a look, and as she was walking out she kicked dirt at me and spat on Emma.
"Whatever. Let's just get her out of here as soon as possible." Enid said rolling her eyes.
"Sorry about that. She is just a little paranoid when it comes to new ones." I explained.
She looked up at me quickly, looked around realized we were alone, nodded and put her head down.
"Am not!" Enid screamed.

"Shut up! You'll attract Roamers!" I yelled, making a joke.
Emma burst into laughter. I took off my hat to flip my sweaty hair out of my eyes. When she saw me doing so, she stopped and got up, grabbing her homemade crutches, and left.

"Where are you going?" I asked, running to catch up with her.
"To find Maggie. Duh." She said.
"Follow me. I know where she is." I looked over at her and she was shaking. She was still cold. And her face was stained with dirty tears. She wiped them off quickly and her lips quivered.
"Emma!" I scolded her for not saying anything.
"What?!" She asked roughly.
I draped a thick blanket over her shoulders.
"Oh... thanks." She said giving in. I tied the blanket around her handles so that it wouldn't slip down, and kept walking toward Maggie and Glenn's.

"Smells like you.." She mumbled.
"I turned my head, "What? Like dirt and blood?" I laughed.
"No." She answered surprisingly seriously, "Like you. The boy who sat in the back. You always smelt like your dad's cologne."
I stopped and she wouldn't make eye contact with me. I opened my mouth to tell her about my dad now, but decided against it. Better not to scare her, after all, I haven't seen her in seven years.

Instead, I turned back around and started for Maggie's house again.