Flickers of Hope - TWD

2. Each and Every One

I lay on my floral-themed bed, reading one of my many books. This one was a romance book about a boy and a girl who hated each other all their childhoods, but when they went to the same college, they found that they were soulmates. I wasn't all that interested in it, but I'd read anything just to pass the time. Reading is one of my favorite things to do when the book is interesting.

I haven't been bothered by anyone today. It was five o'clock in the afternoon and nobody had called me to settle a fight, or to help them make a decision, or to hang out with my dad. I've finally been able to rot in my room without interruption.
I guess I must have jinxed myself, cause right then, I heard three knocks on my door. I sighed, burying my head in my book.

"What?" I barked. The door opened, and instead of one of my dad's little minions, Winnie peeked her head in.
"Jeez, okay Miss Grumpy Pants." Winnie raised her eyebrows. I sighed in relief.
"Sorry," I said, stuffing a bookmark in the crook between my book pages and then slamming it shut.
"What's got you all riled up?" Winnie asked, pushing me over and lying down next to me.
"Nothing." I shrugged, sitting up and pulling my knees up to my chest. "Just... Thinking."
"About?" Winnie urged me to continue.
"My life before all... This." I said.
"You've never told me about your life before, have you?" Winnie fidgeted with her bracelet. It was the one she got while trading a week earlier.
"You've never told me about yours, either," I mentioned.
Winnie shrugged, "You've never asked."
"I'm asking now?" I tilted my head, eager to learn more about her.
"It's not all that interesting. You would probably be bored out of your mind the second I started talking."
"Try me."
Winnie thought for a moment, "Well, um... My parents split when I was too young to remember. They gave me to my uncle and made me his problem." she bit her lip, "I don't know. I was just a normal teenager. I did cheer and shit."
I chuckled, "That's pretty cool. I wanted to do cheer and shit when I was in elementary school."
Winnie nodded. She had something else she wanted to say.
"Is that it?" I urged in an attempt to get her to spit it out.
She hesitated, "Well, um... I struggled with some heavy stuff in high school. Depression." she pursed her lips, "Tried to kill myself sophomore year."
My face fell, "Oh."
Winnie tried to laugh it off, "Sorry. T-M-I?"
"No, no. I'm sorry you went through that, Winnie." I said. It was obvious that my attempt to comfort her wasn't working.
"Let's talk about you. What was your life like before the dead arose from their graves?" I could tell she was looking for a reason to change subjects, but I didn't object.
"Well, um... I grew up with my mom and dad. No pets or siblings." I searched through my head for anything even slightly interesting, "I was always kind of the weird kid. Didn't have any friends." I paused, "Well, I had one."
"What was their name?" Winnie asked with a tilt of her head.
"Carl. We were best friends all through elementary school. I haven't seen him since this shit show started." I said. I wondered where he was now. Probably dead.
"Maybe you guys will reconnect someday." Winnie suggested. "A lot of people get washrd up here." she said, gesturing to the sanctuary.
"I dunno," I shrugged. "He's probably dead."
Winnie frowned but didn't disagree. She knew that my assumption was likely.
"Okay. That all you got?" Winnie asked. I could tell that she was eager to learn more. "What about your mom? What happened to her?"
My heart sank.
"I don't want to talk about my mom," I said in a small voice, trying to block out unwanted memories.
"Oh. Okay. That's fine." Winnie smiled sympathetically, "How 'bout we go get some food, huh?"
I flashed a small smile and nodded, happy to change the subject.

ʚɞ

I wished Winnie could be a part of these meetings. She'd be good at it. She was good at leading and decision-making— she's who I always go to when I need advice. But we can't always get what we want. So, these meetings continued to be boring.

I didn't even know the names of half of the people that sat at this conference table. I knew my Dad, Fat Joe, Laura, and that's about it.