"How many walkers have you killed?"
"Must be a couple hundred at this point"
"How many people have you killed?"
"Just...two"
"Why?"
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These are the three questions Salem, a 15 year old girl surviving on her own in the a...
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Salem and Carl slept in each other arms till early morning, the sun barely creeping through the tall window near the ceiling.
Salem slowly opened her eyes, feeling refreshed and feeling a warm embrace from underneath her. She looks around to see Carls arm wrapped around her side and him resting peacefully above her. Her first instinct was to jump and pry him away, but she overrode her instincts and laid there for a moment. Contemplating.
She felt safe around Carl, she hardly knew him but felt as if she could trust him with her life. She'd never felt that way about anyone, not even her parents. The fact that she trusted him so much frightened her.
She heard Carl groan from above her and quickly shut her eyes, pretending to still be asleep on his chest. He fell silent, probably recalling the events of last night. He sighed and carefully lifted her off of him, crawling out of the bed and placing a kiss on the top of her forehead before laying a blanket from the top bunk around her.
She swore she could've melted. No one had ever taken that much care or delicacy with her before, she liked it. Carl picked up his hat from his desk and left the cell. Salem slowly peeled her eyes open, making sure he was gone before flipping from her side to her back, sighing out heavily and running her fingers through her hair. She felt conflicted. ______________________________
Salem walked up the stairs and searched for Carols cell on the top layer of the cell floor. She found Carol knitting something on her bed. "Good morning Carol, I was wondering if you guys had any clean clothes for me to wear?" Carol looks up from her knitting and smiles warmly at Salem. "Hey bedbug, sleep well last night?" Carol raises her eyebrows and smirks. "Oh God, you saw that?" Salem groans and holds her hand over her eyes. "Sure did. Daryl and I thought it was adorable, Rick not so much," Carol stands up and taps Salems arm as she walks past, signaling her to follow.
"We didn't even mean to, I swear. We were just talking then I got tired and fell asleep. He must've fallen asleep after me," she mumbles, following Carol to the laundry room where she lets Salem rummage through a bin of unclaimed clothing. "Don't sweat it sweetie, Carls a good boy. And you seem like a good girl," Carol rubs her arm lovingly.
"Thank you Carol. You guys have been so kind to me, you're good people," Salem stops rummaging to give Carol a smile. "Of course, I'm sorry you were all alone out there, no kid should have to do that," Carol grimaces and looks away at the floor. Salem was obviously missing context but chose not to ask, she didn't want to pry.
"Alright well, these are all up for grabs, so you take whatever you want sweet pea," Salem stiffens at the nickname, her smile and moments faltering. "Thank you," she says stiffly before Carol smiles and walks away. Salem shrugs off the feeling and finds something to wear.
She picks out a form fitting-black- long sleeve-rib-knit top, and a comfortable, slightly baggy gray sweatshirt to go on over it, topped off with army green cargo pants and combat boots. Salem returns to her cell, hanging a blanket over the door for privacy as she changed into the fresh clothes, folding her old ones on a chair.
