i wouldn't marry me either, a pathological people-pleaser (who only wanted you to see her).
The car pulled to a stop inside the gates of the prison, Nuru pulling the handbrake and stepping out. Her run hadn't been the most successful yet, having been away for a few days and the only things she got were a can of diet coke and a few barrels of fuel. The corner store she had raided was small, others having been there before her.
There were trivial things lying around, things like chewing gum and paper, things that you couldn't really use. Nuru had taken the opportunity, though, and grabbed a few packs of gum and a kids comic book (for Carl, naturally).
She heaved the cardboard box with her findings out of the car and set them on the ground. Looking up, Nuru took a deep breath and observed the trees. Summer was coming. The leaves had gradually become a lighter green and the flowers were in full bloom. She noticed on the front yards that there were lilies and daffodils sprinting up from the vibrant grass.
It was nice. They had to make do with what they had, which wasn't very much, but the prison was a godsend during the winter; when food was low and snow encased the group's minds in a frosty haze of ragged survival, the prison had saved their lives. A place that most of them had never willingly set foot in before the End.
Then summer had rolled around and things got even better. Woodbury was dealt with, and the small group of about seven or eight was boosted to about forty-nine.
Nuru had found it better than being on the road. Sure, she loved being more connected to nature than she had been ever before, but it was cold. And hungry. And desolate. Her family had found it even worse, what with Lori patiently waiting for her baby to come into the world and poor Beth trying to adjust to life in the apocalypse.
Carl had been easy.
That hurt Nuru the most.
He never complained and he always took things in his stride. He was barely ten years old and was already having to deal with things out of his mental capacity.
Nuru remembered when she first met the kid; he was wide-eyed and hopeful, everything like what Nuru had been when she was his age. Carl had found something brighter in every situation, turning the bad into something good and optimistic. She admired that about him, admired the innocence and sort of naivety.
But all things didn't last forever.
Nuru had known when Carl and Maggie walked out with baby Judith in her arms. She had seen the look on Carl's face. She'd never forget it.
Nuru didn't like Lori. That was well known. But she adored Carl, and that wasn't what she wanted. Not like that.
From that day forth, Nuru had made it her personal mission to protect Carl from whatever she could, and prepare him for whatever she couldn't.
Fight the dead.
Fear the living.
She drilled that into his mind, all day every day, while Rick had been off losing his mind. Nuru couldn't blame him. Lori had died in a horrific way, a way that Nuru wouldn't wish upon anyone.
She had managed to savor a little bit of that child-like innocence in Carl. He hadn't yet lost that gleam in his eyes that shone through every single time Nuru brought him a comic.
She saw Carl through one of the windows of the prison, though he quickly disappeared when she held up the blue and red paper comic. She heaved the cardboard box into her hands, carrying it up to the cell blocks. She walked past Andrew, one of the inmates they found when the group first found the prison. He was... strange. Nuru considered him a friend, but he was constantly up to shady things that nobody could explain.
