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The next morning, Daryl tells us all about how he heard someone in the woods last night. Rick isn't sure he heard anyone at all. I can't say I'm sure, either, but I also don't have a reason to not believe Daryl. There are rotting corpses walking around every square inch of these woods. It's hard to pinpoint a sound out here, especially in the dead of night when everything seems still around you. It could've just been a walker he was hearing. It's decided he searches the area, which seems like a good enough idea to me. When he comes back to camp with a slew of dead squirrels and no captive an hour later, I'm relieved. We pack up the few belongings we each have to start off again.
I walk with Carl, his tired body holding me upright like, a formation we have resumed for what feels like so long. I feel extremely guilty giving in and accepting his help since I keep getting the impression I'm just slowing him down. He doesn't seem to mind, however. I guess that just makes it worse because, even if it was a problem, he'd never have the heart to tell me that.
As we move along, I hear Sasha and Bob speaking to each other - playing one of their games. Every time that she speaks about one of the negatives of this awful world, Bob is able to flip it into something good. Usually, the game would make me smile. It's sweet and is clearly good for helping us see the better side of things. The thing that makes me want to turn around and demand they stop is their blind optimism. We are drowning in a pile of shit right now and have no space for air. There isn't a whole lot of good to look for within our situation, and especially not right now.
I try to be like that, too. I try to be able to look for the good in any situation. I was optimistic about Terminus. Terminus was a chance for us to live. Now, I don't think I can look at anything in such a way. - like it holds all the answers to our problems. Nobody survives out here. No matter what I want or wish for, it doesn't matter. None of it does. The world gives you shit and you just have to decide what to do with it. I really wish that wasn't the case, but I think it's time that we look it dead in the eyes and deal with it instead of trying to tiptoe around the situation and twist it into some sort of hopelessly good opposite.
I hear Sasha's laughter come from behind me. I accidentally grip onto Carl's arm tighter than I even notice, which causes him to ask me if I'm okay.
"Fine." It's all I can get out as I limp along. I wonder if my leg will ever fully heal. At this rate, it doesn't feel that way at all.
There's a scream from in front of us that drowns out any note of happiness that had been lingering amongst the others, and I can't even confirm if it had been very much. I can feel my heart immediately beating rapidly as my eyes search for the source of the sound. With the trees around us, it's impossible to know exactly where the owner is located. The scream gets distorted so easily.
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Who We Are | TWD
Fanfiction↳ it's who we are now... oc x carl grimes season 4-7 TW: Mentions of death, gory depictions, suicide, alcohol and drug abuse, language, smoking, violence, depression, and other mature topics. DISCLAIMER: I do not own or claim to own any of The Walk...