THE STORY OF CALLIOPE HART - The Walking Dead

Part 8 | Day two.

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Calliope's POV:

It's morning and the sun is shining in through the trees onto my pale skin. I'd be lying if I said that it didn't feel nice waking up to the cool summer breeze and the birds chirping. I think that might be one of the only things I like about the new world. I always get to sleep outside and I get to wake up to the morning breeze.

The feeling only lasts a few seconds though as it sets in that I'm still alone with nothing but the few birds chirping away in the trees and my plain red backpack that I found on the highway.

I look around for a second, making sure that there aren't any walkers waiting to jump out at me before I slowly climb down the tree, my white sock and pink Converse touching the dirt.

I forgot that I threw my shoe last night, that was stupid. I don't even know where I threw it. I mean, it's in the trees somewhere but I don't know where.

Instead of trying to find the shoe, I crouch down and remove my other Converse. It's better to be barefoot than just have one shoe, even if it's a pink Converse.

I start walking, my pocket knife in my right hand as I walk through the woods, looking at every corner to make sure nothing's gonna jump out at me.

"Sophia, Momma!" I yell out, hoping that at least one of them will hear me and come running. I don't even know if Momma knows I'm gone, or if she's even alive. For all I know, she could've died on that highway.

I don't think she did though, she's a very strong woman and I know that she won't die from one stupid walker. She can survive anything, I just know it.

I continue shouting my momma and Sophia's names as I walk through the woods. I hope I come across something soon, I'm hungry and my legs hurt.

I continue walking for what feels like hours, and my throat feels scratchy from the yelling but all I can think about is how hungry I am. My stomach's rumbling and I feel kind of dizzy.

I decide to sit down for a second, just to let that feeling pass. I sit down in front of a large tree with my knees to my chest as I pick up a crunchy leaf off the ground.

I hope somebody finds me soon. This is starting to suck. I hate being alone, especially without food or water.

Daddy used to lock me in my bedroom, but it was never nearly as bad as this. I mean, sure. I'd go to bed some nights without food because of that, but at least I had something to entertain myself and a bed. Right now all I have is leaves and the occasional rabbit, but I can't talk to them. That'll make me look crazy.

I mean, if I was to be walking in the woods and saw a 10-year-old speaking to some leaf, I'd be pretty scared, or at least weirded out.

God, I miss my Momma. She's always been my favourite person to talk to. She always has the best answers to my questions and she doesn't make them too hard to understand. Not only that, but she treats me like I'm the only person in the world. like I'm the light of her life.

I feel bad for saying that I hated her last night, because I don't. I think I love her more than I've ever loved anyone. Not that I've loved many people, since I'm only 10, but I don't know. Momma has to be one of my favourite people on this earth, I don't know what I'd do if I ever lost her. I hope she's alive, I really, really hope she is.

After a while of sitting down, I feel like I should probably get up and start walking, so I do just that.

I pick my bag up, slinging it over my right shoulder and I start walking again. I've found that pretending that I'm not going to die out here helps keep me from crying. Instead, I pretend that I'm just in the woods behind my house and momma is at home washing the dishes or something.