Nothing but Dead (The Walking Dead Fanfic)

Survival of Us

Its been a full twenty-four hours, since Lilly was put in the ground and the mourning had not run it's course yet.

The sun shone brilliantly and the virascent color of the fall day under it's glare was offensively bright and cheerful. It was as if they conspired to show the group that the world would go on without her, and it would. Everything should be as grey and foggy as their emotions, it should be cold and damp with silent air. The birds still were silent and the flowers that bloomed in the summer were still dead and grey with dismay.

She was buried were they put Dale down to rest so many months ago. The service was simple, no one spoke. The preacher, Jessica, wanted to speak but Garrett found it best if she not.

Dave was the only one to stay after everyone left. He stayed the longest. He pauses, his breath rising in visible puffs, then he remember why he stayed so long. He needed to pay his respects before he left. The fake flowers, that he found in the house would do as a gift of most respect to her.

He laid the flowers on her grave, never taking his eyes off of the wooden cross set up as her memorial. Grief set in.

He felt the like in his heart, a shear of nothingness that somehow takes over and holds your soul and threatens to kill you entirely. It gave him this heavy feeling that's like the weight of the world is resting on his shoulders and there is nothing he could do to get out from under it.

Tears did not flow from his eyes however. There were other things to cry for other than the death of Lilly. The death of his sister and nephew, the death of human kind perhaps. But still he didn't cry. His face stayed hard, but his eyes were soft.

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Garrett and Mitchel were up stairs in one of the bedrooms of the farmhouse. It was Hershel's daughters, Beth's room. A small single bed, looking like a snow drift, so white and feathery. One window curtained with a square of starched white cotton cloth that drew over the panes by means of a white cord on which it was run at the top.

A tiny wash-stand with an old-fashioned bowl and pitcher of green and white stone-ware, and over it an old-fashioned gilt mirror. A small splint-bottomed chair and large braided rug of red woolen rags. With posters on the wall.

"I did it because I thought I could save her." Garrett said with remorse in his voice. He was explaining the reason why he cut Lilly's arm off.

"You did what you thought was right." Mitchel tried to get him to fell better.

"It wasn't right Mitch." Garrett coldly stared at him. "She was my friend, I killed her."

Killing people that were trying to kill him was different. Those people before that he had to kill. That man named Bob who he mercilessly put down on the road way. That kill was different than this kill. Lilly was his friend, she trusted him and it brought her to her death.

Mitchel paced the room looking into his mind for an answer. He didn't have one. He didn't know how his best friend felt. Garrett had brought-en them this far and suddenly because of the death of Lilly he began to lose his mind, his character seemed to losing itself.