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CASSIE I observe the ends of my hair gently brushing against the dusty floor of the deer cooler as I lie upside down in my chair, letting my head dangle over the edge. The deer cooler, an unlikely refuge, surrounds us with a sense of eerie quiet. An everlasting boredom envelops me as I await Michonne's return, a feeling only punctuated by Andrea's occasional cough that breaks the lingering silence.
Andrea, lying on the floor beside me, appears frail and unwell. Her blonde hair sticks to the layer of sweat on her flushed skin.Her persistent illness hangs heavy in the air, a constant reminder of our struggle for survival. Michonne, the pillar of strength in our makeshift family, ventures out daily in search of medicine. Yet, luck has eluded us during the entire week we've been holed up here. Andrea's condition prevents her from traveling, but this place won't remain safe forever.
The creak of the door interrupts my empty thoughts, and I flip myself upright to welcome Michonne. Despite being so much older than me, Michonne never treats me like a little kid, that's why I like her so much.
"Did you find anything?" I ask eagerly, hoping for a breakthrough as she crosses the threshold.
"Just Tylenol, but it should help her fever go down," Michonne replies, providing a glimmer of hope. A wave of relief washes over me as Andrea takes the medication, her weakened state had me awaiting the worst outcome.
I enjoy Michonne's company, but my bond with Andrea is stronger. Even in her adulthood, Andrea's maturity doesn't necessarily align with her age. She gets easily set off by anything and everything, a quirk that I find amusing.
"What's it like out there?" Andrea questions Michonne.
"The same. It's quiet," Michonne responds, her words concealing a truth she doesn't voice.
"You're lying. They're coming," I interject. "We've been here for a week; it's a miracle the dead aren't already at our door."
Andrea seizes Michonne's arm, her urgency palpable. "She's right. They'll be here soon. You need to take Cassie and go," Andrea insists, a seriousness in her tone that I've never witnessed before.
"We aren't going to leave you!" I declare, jumping to my feet. The very idea of abandoning Andrea shakes me to the core.
Michonne proposes a departure in a few days, engaging in hushed conversations with Andrea. Though their words elude my ears, one sentence chills me to the bone: "If we leave in a few days, I'll die here." Andrea's eyes convey a gravity that leaves me breathless.
"We leave today," I assert, my tone brooking no arguments. The urgency in my voice reflects the profound fear of losing Andrea and the impending danger outside our fragile haven.
