Rori Rhee has survived this long, been through so many death. Yet she still had Carl, her parents, and the rest of the group. Except, she's slowly losing her family and herself. After Beth's death, it felt like she would never be happy again. Her Au...
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Walkers pounded on our gates, and our graveyard was slowly becoming bigger. I gently swept the broken glass off the floor with my broom. I figured with all these kids running around, the shattered glass from the cars wasn't very safe for them.
"Hey, what are you doing?" Carl's voice sounded in my ears.
"Sweeping up broken glass. I don't want the kids getting hurt," I explained
"That's smart," Carl agreed. "Can I help?"
"Uh, I don't have an extra broom but you can hold the dustpan while I sweep the glass into it," I said, pulling the glass into a small pile.
"Okay," Carl nodded, taking the dustpan from me. He bent down, holding it at an angle. I paused, staring at him. "What?"
"Nothing," I shook my head, working on sweeping all the glass into the pan.
"Seriously, what is it?" Carl asked.
"Nothing. I was just admiring how handsome you are, Sheriff," I grinned.
"Well, I'm lucky to have a princess," Carl smiled, putting the dustpan on the floor and coming over to me. He pulled me closer by my waist, our faces inches apart.
"Are you now?" I asked, a slight smile on my pale lips.
"Uh-huh. Extremely lucky," Carl said, leaning closer to me until our lips were touching. As our lips moved together, I snaked my hands up to rest on his neck. "What do you say we have fun?"
"What do you have in mind?" I asked, breathless.
"A dance."
"You know I'm always down for a dance," I told him. He took my hand and let me spin in a circle, my hair flying up around me. He swayed our bodies side to side, carefully working our way around the glass. It felt like I was in one of those fairytale movies where the girl gets the guy and they live happily ever after. Only, the second part would never be true but at least I had Carl.
"I have to finish cleaning," I said, resting my forehead against his.
"Okay," Carl nodded, kissing my lips one last time before we pulled apart. I quickly finished sweeping glass into the pan, allowing Carl to go throw it away.
"I think I'm going to go sit with my Dad for a bit," I told him.
"Okay. Just, be careful. It's getting dark," Carl said. "I'll let your Mom know where you're at."
"Thanks," I said, heading over to the graves. Carl was right. It was getting dark and cold quickly. The number of graves had increased quite a bit since I first arrived. It was easy to find my Dad, he had flowers littered on his grave. I sat criss-cross in front of the grave. "Hey, Dad. It's been a while now. I miss you a lot. Things are different since you left. I know you probably thought nobody was going to make it away from Negan, but plenty of us did. I wish we could've saved you before you died, but most people are doing okay. We're still fighting with Negan though. Uhm, anyway, I just wanted to tell you that I love you and I miss you."
I sighed, pulling out the letter from my pocket. I carefully unfolded it. I took a deep breath as my hands began to shake. Once I felt good enough to read it, I did. My eyes scanned over every word, taking the time to process it. However, halfway through I had to stop to wipe away my tears. I sniffled loudly, quickly finishing the rest of the letter before tucking it back into my pocket. I could barely see it, the only light coming from the glow of the moon. I pulled my knees to my chest, resting my head on them.
After sitting there for what felt like hours, I finally managed to get enough courage to stand up. My legs shook violently as I walked. Just as I was about to head inside, I noticed someone standing by the prisoners. Upon quick decision-making, I jogged over there, pulling out one of my knives as I went.
"Hey!" I called out, approaching carefully and alert. My head snapped back when screaming rang through my ears. I looked between the prisoner cage and back to the house. I darted towards the prisoner cage, finally recognizing who was there. "Henry! What are you doing?"
Henry glanced back at me, gun in hand. "Find who killed my brother."
"Henry, we don't have time for this. Something going on inside," I said. "Henry, come on. Close the gate and get out here."
Henry ignored me. "I'm going to count to ten and start shooting. One. Two. Three."
"Henry, stop," I ordered.
"Four. Five-" Henry never got to finish his sentence before a scream ripped from. I gasped as walkers appeared around us, and Henry began shooting. I pulled out a knife, stabbing a walker in the head.
"Henry," I screamed, watching him get tackled to the ground. The guy took his gun from Henry.
"Gates open boys. Let's go," The guy ordered, running out the open gate. I ripped my bloody knife from the walker's head.
"Let's get out of here, Henry," I said, walking backward. When I turned around, Henry was gone. I could see his little figure running towards the gate. "Wait, Henry!"
Obviously, I knew I couldn't leave him on his own but I wasn't sure I wanted to follow him. If he wasn't a kid, I might not have but he was and that changed everything. I followed his blond mop of hair as he rushed out the front gates and into the forest. I only caught up to him when he tripped, a walker stumbling towards him. I rushed forward, stabbing the walker in the head.
"What the hell were you thinking?!" I asked, pulling Henry to his feet.
"T-there were walkers. We had to get out," Henry stuttered, looking around.
"So you go find a fucking adult! You don't just run out of the gate. I have no fucking idea how to get home," I scolded him, eyes flickering around the dark forest.
"Didn't Daryl teach you how to track footprints? We can just follow those back," Henry said.
"Barely. I never paid attention because I was only thirteen. And besides, it's too dark to do that now. We've got to get out of here and find a safe place," I told him.
"Wait, we're stuck out here?" Henry asked, eyes turning as wide as saucers.
"Yes, Henry. We're stuck out here with no food or water and barely any weapons."
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