𝘐𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘚𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 // 𝘋𝘢𝘳𝘺𝘭 𝘋𝘪𝘹𝘰𝘯

ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ ᴡɪꜱʜᴇꜱ

The breeze swirls my tight curls around as I stand motionless in front of Rick as he digs. Overlooking the once working train station, it seems to be quiet.

There's no sign of life beyond this point. Past the fence, there hasn't been one sound, smell, or even visible sign of a human. And it makes me uneasy.

"Scarlet?" He asks, one hand on his hip, the other still clutching the shovel's handle. I can tell by his voice alone that he is feeling the same way I do.

"You need help?" He shakes his head, stopping when it's in the direction of the fence. He stares at it for a moment, taking in the view of our "new home".

Speaking quickly I say what I know were both thinking, "You don't trust it" Rick nods this time but he doesn't seem happy about it.

Even as he drops the bag of guns into the hole, he has a scowl the whole time, his movements rigid. Michonne comes over at some point, Carl following along with her. And so we watch as Rick and Daryl begin to cover the hole, covering our only remaining chance of protection.

It's funny really, how our life has come down to covering guns in a hole before entering someone's home. Somewhere we might want to live.

I feel a slight nudge on my shoulder, looking up a bit to make eye contact with Michonne who's already looking at me, a slight smile on her face. I raise an eyebrow at her expression only earning an even larger smile from her. I stand confused for a second before Carl starts to giggle on the other side of me, a hand covering his mouth to suffocate his snickers.

"What?" I spit out, only my accent makes it sound off, earning another round of laughs. Soon enough Michonne's hands are on her knees, laughing so hard she can barely breathe. Carl's no better, shushing her loudly as laughs fly out of him too.

Rick and Daryl stand in front of us with a confused look on their faces. Until what looks like realization strucks Daryl and his face painfully morphs into a frown, shaking his head twice in our direction before stalking off. This only makes me more confused, whipping my head between the two of them.

"Do you really not know?" Carl asks between laughs. I shake my head as they slowly calm down. Michonne finally stands normally next to me again, though she has a tear on her cheek and a painful looking smile plastered on her face.

"Know what?"

Michonne shakes her head, "it's your birthday" The second the words fall out of her mouth I wish I hadn't been curious. My face drops and theirs do too. Michonne reaches a hand out to say sorry but I dismiss it with a half smile, quickly walking away. 

It's my birthday? 

I can still remember my birthdays so well. It's as if no matter how much of my childhood I forget, I can never forget that day. Even if it didn't go well, which seemed to happen lots the older I got, I still enjoyed the thought of knowing that on this day, all those years ago, it was just my mom, father, and I alone. 

They hadn't infected me with their evilness yet. I was innocent and unaware of the storm that I would have to call my life. And yet, 25 years later, I still beg for it all over again. Even if I can't remember that day in the hospital, I wish I could. 

---

Storming into something is easy. I find that after years of living always on alert, it's made it easier to do it now. Even as we run through the fence, breaching this "communities" walls, my heart doesn't spike, I don't feel the normal adrenaline or the pressure of my blood rising. It's as if the numbness of my brain has passed to my body. 

Rick yells out commands as he runs but I'm not listening. My head is silent of all thoughts and my chest doesn't pound like usual. But somehow it's as if I'm deaf, a solid ringing running through my ears. 

Following closely behind the group, my eyes quickly dart around the buildings swallowing us from the outside world. Even as we run passed buildings, darting through a door way, my eyes never stop, jumping from one thing to the next. 

When a sudden and new voice echoes through the building we all stop dead in our tracks. There's people here, more people than I've seen in weeks. And they all seem to be unsurprised by us, simply continuing with their work. Only one of them actually stops to speak to us, a skinny brown headed guy with a dark grin. 

He  starts speaking but I don't hear a word that comes out of his mouth, instead it's only background noise. Next to me, Rick places his gun on the ground and I can finally hear the ting of Michonne's knife as it hits the ground as well, an uneasy look settled onto all of our faces. 

Reluctantly, Daryl puts his crossbow down. Rick looks at me, tilting his head to the side, motioning for me to follow their lead. I stare back at him for a moment, looking at the man in front of us from the corner of my eye. With a huff, I place my gun down, ripping it from it's spot on my belt, along with my knife resting beside it. 

The man smiles at me, thanking me for trusting them with my weapons, before motioning us back out the door that we came in through. I walk next to Carl, in the back of the group with my head down. I don't like this. Something feels off. 

"Hello!" A blonde woman yells, a fresh grill in front of her. Some sort of meat sits cooking, smoke spewing from the heat. Rick smiles at her uneasily, telling him his name like the polite sheriff he is. 

Around her are chairs and tables, some are walking around others are sitting and eating. Everyone looks healthy and clean. Some even look like they have fresh hair cuts. Some even have clean clothes. Especially one guy, his jacket, brown and clean, oddly familiar. 

Placing my hand on Carl's shoulder, I take a step forward, squinting my eyes. The second I realize I'm right, I'm taking quick steps towards the chef, ripping the knife off the table next to her and pressing it into her neck. 

Screaming breaks out, the man who calmy welcomed us before tries to reason with me, his eyes wide and his hands shaky. Rick doesn't seem to be confused, instead he nods, giving me the signal that if I'm going to do something, I can. 

"How?" I yell out, my voice oddly shaky. The thought of Glenn being here, locked away or worse, makes my spine stiffen. "How?" I scream, making the poor guy jump. He raises his hands into the air, begging me to drop the knife so he can explain. 

But there's no explanation needed, not when gun fire rains over us, Carl quick to dive for cover with the adults as I let go of the chef, diving too. I sit still, my hands gripping onto the knife for deer life, as Rick gives us the signal to run. 

And the gun fire only gets louder as we do, following us close but not close enough. Wait, why isn't he shooting us? I slow down a bit, Daryl looking behind him to give me a look, before slowing down too. There pushing us towards something, they want us to do this. 

"Rick" I yell, getting cut off by the annoying guys voice yet again, this time on top of a roof. Little pussy. He tells us to stop and seeing as we have no weapons, we do. Placing our hands high up in the sky, just as instructed, he yells for us to form a straight line, Carl dead last. 

Rick hesitates for a moment, unsure to move, but follows his instructions anyway. I watch as Michonne walks in front of me, breaking off from the rest of us to walk up the stairs of a train box, disappearing inside. Daryl does the same thing before I do. 

And my legs feel like jelly the whole time I do, giving quick glances back to Rick and Carl before my boots hit the cool metal of the box and darkness swallows me whole.