chapter 08; when the going gets tough. ﾟ･*☆¸¸.•*¨*•*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: •*¨*•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ
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❀ LUCY❀
LUCY GRIMES HADN'T FELT QUITE SO HAPPY IN A LONG TIME. Well, a little over three months that is. Which for a teenager was practically years. The night started a positive one. Morales declared they should have a feast thanks to the endless amounts of fish Andrea and Amy caught. Everyone gathered around the campfires, laughing and sharing a good meal. Lucy's Dad was alive, and would be back with his family very soon.
Even after the sun had set, and there was a warm golden glow placed over the camp from the fires. Everything was perfect . . . until it wasn't.
The dead ascended on the survivors like a pack of wolves. There was no warning. There was no reason. The walkers, the monsters - people would say they had no conscience. No empathy.
They tore through the camp, killing all in their wake. And the people who were lucky enough to make it out alive. The scraps and bruises littering their body that night would transform into scars, haunting them for however long the survivors had left in the world.
Lucy Grimes was one of those lucky few. If you'd even consider her survival luck. It was thanks to Shane, and her father of course, who saved them all.
Shane protected her brother mother, and herself when she was too frozen in fear to do anything. Too afraid of the monsters coming to kill them in the dark. Afraid that they remained too human for Lucy to consider them anything else. To do what needed to be done when the time came.
Now, Lucy sat on a log in the middle of her ransacked camp, the blood of her friends splattered across her sneakers. The pink color blending in with the red of the blood. She felt sick to her stomach, eyes filled with tears that wouldn't come.
They were the lucky ones. That's what she told herself as she watched Carl try to cheer Sophia up with a game of marbles after her father was found among the dead.
They were the lucky ones. She said when her mother tried to comfort Andrea, grim-faced and determined. No one else was willing to confront her about ending Amy before she turned.
They were the lucky ones? She told herself, watching her father's guilt-ridden eyes as he wandered off somewhere along the camp. Unable to confront the families of those who lost their lives the night before.
