Who We Are | TWD

.040

Ron leaves soon after. Oddly enough, he actually has to convince me to let him go back. In all honesty, I don't want him to. I offered for him to sleep on my floor for the night, but he told me he'd have to go home eventually, anyways.

When I heard Rick walk onto the porch, I rushed Ron downstairs and out the side door as quickly as I could. "I'll see you later," he whispered before turning away and heading towards his house.

"See you," I muttered before closing the door and going to see Rick on the porch. The sun has begun to lower in the sky, dousing my surroundings in a light tint of orange. Rick doesn't acknowledge me at first. He's standing at the very top of the steps, looking onto the street, a serious expression covers his face and I wonder why. It's not until I see a figure far off down the street coming our way that I know what he's looking at.

"They're back from their run," Rick states, not peeling his eyes away from whom I've now identified to be Glenn. A woman, Maggie, comes running down the street behind him, just barely catching up to his quick pace so that they can hug.

"What run?" I ask, having no idea what he's talking about.

"There were problems with the power in some of the houses. They had to get parts to fix the grid."

I had no idea about any of this. While I was safe at home, my friends were possibly in danger and nobody had told me. As Glenn takes another step forward, Maggie at his side, I can begin to make out the stains of blood coating his skin and clothes. There was no possibility of them being in danger because they definitely were.

Rick walks down the stairs, striding towards the two. I follow, needing to see Glenn and make sure he's okay. As we get closer, the sight of tears are noticeable on his cheeks, his lips turned into a frown. I start jogging, beating Rick to Glenn so I can give him a hug. He wraps his arms around my shoulders. I can smell the scent of the dead burrowed deep inside his shirt fabric. He takes one hand off of me to hold it around Rick until all three of us are hugging and I want to cry, but I don't even know what for. I hate seeing Glenn upset. For the years that I have known him, there are very few occasions that he's been that way.

"What happened?" Rick sighs, pulling back.

Glenn shakes his head, speechless, but I know that whatever he is about to say won't be good.

"Noah . . . he's dead." A wave of shock pulses through my skin as the realization of the matter hits me. I hadn't grown super close to Noah over the short time he was with us, but Glenn and Maggie had. Tara had. He had been apart of our group and knowing that he's not with us anymore is sickening.

"How?" is all Rick can ask, but the expression on Glenn's face says he isn't ready. "Get in the house, Emmie."

"What? No!" I protest.

"Rick, she can stay-" Glenn begins, but is cut off by Rick's voice.

"Get. In. The. House," he repeats and I know he isn't messing around. Rick never talks to me like that. Ever. I'm at a loss at his new tone, but glare at him before stalking back home.

I hate being treated like a child. Just the same, something about Rick's unusual tone worries me. He never speaks to me, and rarely Carl for that matter, like that.

☾

Night falls and I'm still locked up in my room. I'm hungry, for with all the events of today, I had forgotten to eat as much as I had wanted to. I don't have energy to pull myself from my bed where I've been posted for the past hour. My head hurts and I'm tired, but I can't stop staring at the wall beside me.