𝘐𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘚𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 // 𝘋𝘢𝘳𝘺𝘭 𝘋𝘪𝘹𝘰𝘯

𝘈𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘩𝘢𝘮 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘬

"What do you wish for?" My mom asked, her shaky hand resting itself upon my shoulder. She gave it a tight squeeze as I shake my head, avoiding eye contact.

"I don't know."

Letting out a breathy laugh, mom squeezed my shoulder again causing me to finally look up. She was still my mom. The same woman who was there for my first birthday and the same woman who has lit the candles for every birthday since.

But she was a little more frail. Where there was once smooth skin, wrinkles form. Dark hair turned white, and blush no longer appeared on her cheeks.

She somehow still looked young though, as if you could have just reached and swiped the years away.
"There has to be something you want" she said, her patchy hair falling out of the bun slightly.

"Not really" I shrugged. Though there was a million things I could have said, a million things I prayed to change.

"Well you only turn thirteen once kiddo"

"I know." The way I said it made her look down at me with a large frown. A venom like tone falling off my lips without warning. I didn't even know why I was mad.

But all I felt is rage as I stared at the cake in front of me.

"We don't need to do this" I beg for the fourth time in the past hour, wishing someone would finally take the hint. It's not that I'm not happy they're doing this for me. Of course I am, it just brings up too many memories.

"Don't be silly scarlet" Carol waves off my plea, placing a hand on my shoulder, I flinch, looking at her with wide eyes. She looks back at me, confusion of her face. Carol goes to say something but with a fast beating heart and a cloudy head, I walk away from her before she can.

The group went on a run while I was asleep last night. And all day since then, they've been decorating the church with whatever they could have found.

Walking towards the table in front of the giant Jesus, I pick up the bottle of wine that sits there, waiting for me, pressuring me. I always hated birthdays because of my parents and their drinking. Now look at me.

"If you keep looking at it, it's not going to disappear." Abraham mumbles behind me, stopping right beside me. "You don't have to like any of this, just act like you do"

Letting out a sigh I turn towards the redhead, the bottle still in my hand. "Why did you guys do this?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Abraham reaches for the bottle lifting it slowly out of my grasp. It opens with a pop, "I guess they like you or something" he grins, taking a large gulp. "To be honest, Maggie said something about you having a really hard time lately and Rick jumped on the idea of doing something to bring us all together."

I nod along, also taking a gulp from the bottle. "And what about you?"

"Hmm?" He asks.

"Are you with us?" Taking another swig, I raise my head slightly to make eye contact with him. The veteran stares down at me, motionless for a second before shrugging again.

"I'm just trying to get Eugene to where he's got to go so this whole thing is finally over"

I snort at his words and he looks offended. "Abraham, in this world, we have to do things for ourselves sometimes" I take another swig. "Don't die just because some guy with a mullet told you to"

"Scar?" Somehow I can hear his voice even over my drunken slurs and hiccups. I lost track of what I was doing a long time ago. Maybe it was when Abraham pulled out the second bottle, or maybe even when Michonne yelled at me for drinking so much, who knows.