𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐋𝐘
- 𝙖 𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙛𝙖𝙣𝙛𝙞𝙘
❛ she smiles like a child with flowers
in her hair, with blood on her hands
into the sun she stares ❜
- 𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇, the...
⚘.ﾟ༘༘ | THE WALKING DEAD | 🪓ꓹ─๑ weak, weak, weak
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❪ 𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐋𝐘 ❫᠂ ⭒ 𝙳𝙰𝚈 𝟸𝟹 𝙾𝙵 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙸𝙽𝙸𝚃𝙸𝙰𝙻 𝙾𝚄𝚃𝙱𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙺 ☆ ❝ what the hell is wrong with you? ❞ : ˖ ۫ ★ ៸
THEY WERE ALL INFECTED. The thought hadn't left her mind since the CDC. Though, she did wonder how true the secret was. Maybe it was just another desperate try to get them to stay?
She'd made it halfway through the large field when she realized that maybe this wasn't the best idea. Though, the thought was quickly pushed aside.
Every moment she was sitting on her ass, not doing anything, Sophia had one less person looking for her. Wesley Greene couldn't stop her from looking for that little girl.
That little girl, who was lost because of her.
She had to find her.
He still let them go . . . a dead man continued to haunt her. It seemed like no matter what she did, the dead would always haunt her. Whether she was asleep, or awake, they'd be there. Whispering, poking and prodding.
Since Ed, they'd shut the hell up. She had enough distracting her.
Except the 'weak'. Weak, weak, weak. That's what they called her. A distant whisper from her dead father. Even in death that mad had such an influence on her. It was good – they kept her strong.
Because when she was weak, it was a reminder that she needed to be strong.
It was a wake up call, it screwed her head back on. It got shit done.
Her tight leather jacket hugged her arms as she pushed herself the rest of the way across the open field — anyone could see her at any moment, but Presley was very good at lying through her teeth. She knew that if she kept talking, spewing bullshit out of her mouth, anything that she said could become right or wrong, and it'll become reality for the people around her.
She came close to the treehouse, and she leaned against one of it's long wooden legs, taking a small moment to rest her knee. Maybe walking so fast wasn't a very good idea, but once she was in the forest, where it was be quiet or be dead, she knew she'd have an easier time. Taking one last second, Presley pushed away from the treehouse, and she moved past the first tree in the forest. She only made it so far in when a girl peered down at her.
"Leaving so soon?" Georgia asked, her braids dangling as she titled her head at the brunette. Presley stopped, took a deep breath and slowly turned to look up at the girl who looked down at her. She looked like she'd been crying, "Shame, really."
