Alice was not worried of the unknown. She was worried of what she already knew. She was worried of the promises that the new people were making to her-the ones bringing the people of a fallen Woodbury into their own settlement. The girl felt sorry t...
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A L I C E
ALICE DUNLAP'S SPIRALING HAD finally turned her full-circle. She'd resorted to her old ways—ones that almost would've reminded her of her bumpy past, had they not been rooted in such avoidance.
But avoidance of her scrambled feelings had become especially impossible after waking up to the bulk of their source sound asleep on her floor, right next to her bed. After silently crying herself to sleep the previous night, the girl felt that she'd blown off just the right amount of steam that would finally allow her to twist the lid shut on the shaky bottle of her own emotions.
Carl was still fast asleep on the floor. He was on his back with his hands folded over his chest. His positioning showed an easy awakening, as if he'd be ready to fight at any slight sound.
Only one blanket covered him, contradicting his search for another in the middle of the night.
Alice figured that his search had been in vain—that maybe he couldn't hear her groggy mumbling when directing him toward another. She felt guilty that he'd probably spent the rest of the night out in the cold, just for her sake.
The girl carefully tip-toed around the sleeping boy as she removed her tangled sheet off of her bed, fluttering it a few times in the wind before draping it over him. She figured that the last few minutes of his slumber should at least be somewhat enjoyable.
Once another layer was atop Carl Grimes, Alice began to head towards the hallway. She quietly opened and closed her bedroom door as she crossed the hall and entered her bathroom.
The girl was afraid to flick on the bathroom light, as she could already predict her wretched appearance before even seeing it in the mirror. She knew that her eyes would be puffy and that her lips would lack color.
Alice went straight for the sink, turning on the faucet and scooping water into her tear-stained face. The splashing woke her up more and more, before she finally decided to grab the hand towel off of the rack and pat her face dry. Only then was it time to get a good look at herself.
She slowly folded the hand towel over her healing wrist, raising her other finger up to the light switch.
Her appearance was not as jarring as it once was. The under eye bruising from the hospital was long gone and it was evident that she was no longer living on an empty stomach. The pimple that was haunting her every paranoid thought, just yesterday, had dulled a slight bit.
