𝘐𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘚𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 // 𝘋𝘢𝘳𝘺𝘭 𝘋𝘪𝘹𝘰𝘯

ᴛʀʏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ꜰʟᴏᴀᴛ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ʜᴏᴡ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴡɪᴍ

CAUTION: THIS BOOK IS NOT IN IDENTICAL ORDER TO THE SHOW, THINGS WILL BE DIFFERENT.

Tears brimmed my eyes and made my vision go blurry. My brain couldn't accept what my body was and it caused my heart to beat like a drum inside my chest. The thumping only quickened as my brain did, images of the past week shuffling through my head like a slideshow.

It didn't stop until I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing the images in mind to go blank. A ringing sound floods my ears like a constant sting. This needs to stop, but when will it? It didn't a week ago, nor did it a month ago.

Rick is speaking now, telling us what's expected of us but I can't seem to listen. It's like I'm drowning. I want to reach up, scream for someone to help me, but I can't. Not now, anyway. You can't be selfish now.

Rick's eyes meet mine and their hazardous, telling me all I need to know. Our group has been on the edge of collapse for almost six months now and for the last six months Rick has been desperately trying, and failing, to hold us together. He's also drowning, he just knows how to swim.

Glenn stands next to me, the only person I feel like I truly know. He reminds me of everything good, everything before the world became nothing. We've known each other since birth. Our mom's met at a birthing class and became friends, quickly passing the torch to us.

When you're teenagers and sneaking out together, you don't think about the future, at least we didn't. But like everything else in the world, our future came and hit us like a smack to the face. Let's just say we both weren't prepared to grow up just yet. While we were twenty and already expected to have jobs, houses, girlfriends and boyfriends, kids even, we both hid in our fear. Like aging was a plague.

But the boy beside me doesn't have acne anymore. He doesn't need glasses to see the teacher at the front of the classroom. And he isn't afraid of his voice cracking when he speaks. He's still the Glenn I've always known, the Glenn I shared the apartment with, the Glenn that woke me up when we were kids to scream that it was thundering. The same Glenn that woke me up to scream that our neighbor just died and the news claims it's an apocalypse.

Glenn smiles at me before walking away, a familiar yet different smile. I form a foreign smile, trying to tell him I'm okay but I know it's no use, not when Glenn can read me like a book. I walk towards Rick slowly. The once sheriff stands next to a truck, reading a map that's laid out on the dash.

Since knowing Rick we have both become fond of each other. When it comes to runs he always asks me, knowing he can trust me. Rick changed my whole outlook on the world we're now living in. For a while I didn't want to believe that this was how it's really going to be, that one day someone would jump out of a bush with a camera in their hand, claiming it was all a joke. But when Glenn and I were alone and trapped in a city littered with walkers, we both became antsy and unhappy. It wasn't until we met a group and in return Rick, I actually felt safe again, normal even.

"Rick?" My voice is harsh and sounds like I've been smoking since I was five. I've always had this scratch to my voice even at a young age. Classmates used to make fun of me for it and it certainly doesn't help that I have a thick Boston accent from both my mom and dad. When I first met Rick he called me Jersey for a week, it wasn't until I corrected him he finally called me by my real name.

"Scarlet?" His voice is rough, like nails scraping against a chalkboard. Must be from all the yelling he's been doing. I laugh lightly, an ingenuine act, before asking him what he had been explaining to all of us just moments ago. He sighs loudly and I thank god he has a kid, it helps him handle me.

"We're moving on, trying to find somewhere to stay for the night since a storm looks like it's heading our way." He points to the sky and I follow his long finger. Sure enough, the sky is a strange grey color. Like a child painted it over.