𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓 - c. grimes

S C A R S

Molly's laughs could be heard from inside as she played with Scout in the backyard. A game of fetch had quickly turned into a game of Scout chasing Molly around the large, fenced area. Her mother had been called into some work emergency, so Mason checked in on Molly every once in a while as he caught up on school work.

Molly was only eight years old and had the same spirit as her energetic dog. She loved to run around and spend her free time outside. If Molly was a dog, she'd probably be like Scout— her golden hair, big brown eyes, and how active she was. Mason's window had a perfect view over the backyard, so whenever he could, he spared a glance down below to make sure the two of them were okay. "Come and catch me, Pizza Dog!" Molly squealed as she ran, Scout right on her heels as he panted.

The sound of a yelp and a scream caused Mason to sprint out of his room and outside into the backyard. Molly had tripped and fell, and because Scout was so close behind her, he tripped over her and accidentally scratched her. She sniffled as she tried not to cry, not wanting to upset her dog. "Are you okay?" Mason asked as he jogged over to them. Scout stood up and shook, trying to shake the dirt out of his fur.

"Yeah." Molly wiped her face as she showed the blood running down her calf. Scout whined at the girl's tears.

"It's okay, buddy." Mason rubbed his head. "Let's go inside, we should have some bandaids somewhere." Molly stood up as she and the dog followed him inside. She closed the sliding glass door as Mason went to the bathroom to look through the medicine cabinet.

Molly made her way to the kitchen island and took a seat in one of the tall chairs, waiting for her brother to return. Within a minute, he did. He grabbed a washcloth and wet it to wash away the blood before he put a bandaid on it. "See, all better." He looked down. "If you tied your shoe, you wouldn't have tripped." He smiled. The girl looked down to see that her sneaker was in fact untied as the laces dangled at the side on her foot. "Maybe you'll have a scar, scars are awesome."

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Three weeks. It had been three weeks since they've been on the road, since Atlanta. Within that short time period, they've lost Tyreese. The sun beat down on them as they walked along the road, their vehicles out of fuel.

Molly could feel her skin getting tanned and sunburnt. She could feel the shooting pain in her shins with each step she took. Her fingers felt bruised as her anxious habit of biting her nails had quickly turned into her chewing on the skin around the nail, causing her hand to hurt whenever she held her knife.

The group had some luck when it came to finding food, not much, though. Water was another problem. They had it, but they didn't know when they would find more. "Please, drink some water." Carl spoke quietly as he held out the water bottle for the girl. She looked up at him as they walked side by side. She hesitated, but took the plastic bottle that he already screwed the cap off of. She raised it to her lips and consumed the smallest amount of water possible before handing it back to the boy. She didn't say anything. Once again, she was going days without talking. She hasn't spoken in almost two weeks.

Carl continued to look at her even after she had looked away, putting the cap back on the bottle to trap what little amount of hydration they had. He took notice of the fact that the bruise on her right cheek had finally healed, which he was sure she was relieved about.

On her left walked Noah. During the few days they were on the road making their way up north to Virginia, the two talked a little bit. Noah was a very observant individual, he noticed how Molly distanced herself from the group, still feeling out of place. Of course, they haven't talked since she last used her voice.