There is no cure (Carl Grimes)

Chapter 34: Last Chapter

*LAST CHAPTER*

My swollen eyes open. My body moves; I swear I could hear the broken pieces rattle. No nightmares, no dreams, nothing but the look of his eyes slowly draining. His cheeks drained, his eyes lost, his breathing finally put to an end. I move through the house effortlessly, not caring to make too much noise.

"She's dead!" I hear him scream, again. I walk into his room, and lie beside him. The screams, and sobs have all been coming from Glenn. I didn't have any tears left anymore. They would leak out, but I didn't gasp for air, and scream at Carl for leaving me. I locked myself in my room, and sat on Carl's side curled in a ball starring into space listening to the sound of my own continuous heartbeat. He was gone, and I was forced to stay down here.

"She's dead," he sobbed quieter this time. I had learned to stay quiet, as he screamed, and wailed for his wife to come back. I rubbed small circles on his back.

"Get up. It's been months of mopping around, and crying. You would've died if you were out there," I hear Carol's sweet, yet annoying voice.

"We aren't out there. I'm taking this to my advantage," Glenn said between sobs.

"You cry more than Judith," Carol says. Judith. The small Carl. The precious little baby growing up in this horrid world, without her big brother, and without a father, and mother. What will we tell her when she's older? They died by rotting flesh-eating monster, but we adopted you. The poor girl will never have someone to really call mommy, or daddy. Not, like I did either. Carol grabbed me by her small hands, and yanked me out the door. I came face to chest with Daryl's tall figure. He led me down the stairs, and into the living room. Rick had kept us alive. Where were we going to go now? How would we survive?

"She's your responsibility," Daryl says pointing to the toddler.

"Judith?" I look up at Daryl with questionable eyes. He nods. I look into her big eyes. The icy crystal's stare into my dark eyes. Carl. Daryl picks her up, and hands her to me.

"Hey lil' ass kicker. Look at Mary," Daryl says, as she is laid in my arms. I rocked her gently, like I did when Carl practically screamed his love for me.

"Mary," she said my name. She said small things, but never names.

"Yeah, that's right. Mary. Look at you lil' ass kicker," I poke her nose, and bursts into a fit of giggles.

 Maybe, there was no cure. Maybe, there are others out there like me. No matter how much of my blood, or pee samples. No matter how many times you tried to combine the two, and make something, as impossible as a cure. Maybe, it was just unreasonable. There was no cure. No matter how many times I wished there would be one to save, Carl, or anyone. There would always be that hope that I was this big miracle, but really I just got lucky, somehow. Carl always believed I was going to be able to cure everything. He was filled with so much hope, and he believed there would be a happy ending for him, and the group, our family. Just because I'm immune. I don't know why he had such big hopes for me. How he could even think I was apart of some big miracle. I'm just immune to them. There is nothing special about me. As soon as you learn that, you learn this:

There is no cure.

~~~~~

I know that the last few chapters were really short, but I just wanted to break them up that way. Oh well... Thanks for reading! I have never completed a story, and I feel really proud; even if there are only two people probably reading it to the end. I might be posting more walking dead stuff so please read it!!! Thanks for reading it to the end! You guys are freakin' amazing.