*{This is somewhat a FanFiction of The Walking dead! *Caryl*
Please comment what you think, so i'll know if to continue to write. Thanks!}*
I scream in pain, from his hand. Reaching up I manage to grab it and push him to the floor.
"I'm not gonna let this happen again."
I stared at him, thinking over what had just took place. He stood back up, pulling a knife out of his pocket, and walking towards me.
"I should have done this a long time ago."He spoke in a deep low cut voice, sounding so much different than I had remembered him from before.
I reached in my back pocket looking for my knife, finding that it was gone. My heart seemed to stop as my body fluttered with shock. I just stood there, closed my eyes, and slid down to the wall on my back. Tears were streaming down my face, and all I realized he was going to win. He was finally about to get what he always wanted. His foot steps came closer and stopped in its place. I felt his cold, hand grab my neck pushing me up the wall as I gasped for air. but all I recived was my death soaking in around me. The darkness filled my mind then I was gone.
I sat up on the bench I had slept on from the night before. I wiped my eyes, feeling the cold wind push my arm hair forward making me shiver. My eyes opened and looked up, hearing the sound of moans in the distance. The fog thats surrounded me blocked out every view of the road. The sun began to rise leaving a shadow of me as I stood up. I brushed off my pants, and walked forward following the road. I leaned my head down, noticing the Blood stains on my Hoodie. I bit my lip and looked back forward. No matter how many times I tried to wash them.. The blood stains would never wash away. I felt okay about it though. It made me feel like he was still there. They are only thing I have left of him now. I guess I'm just a person who doesn't know how to deal with deaths. Honestly I don't think anyone really does. Maybe they just feel the void of the persons place so they don't have to feel the gap in them. I never had any major deaths as a child though. When family members died, there wasn't much to say. We never had to shoot them in the head or worrie about them biting us. It was the simpler times. The times I really wish would seep back in to this world. My mom use to tell me and my brother stories about the Guardians out there. And how they were the only ones who knew how to protect us from the Walkers. It was always our goal to find them. But in a world full of the Unconsincrated, its not the easiest thing to do.
I took a deep breath continuing to walk, holding my knife in my hand. A larg figure started to appear in the distance. I walked closer making out it was a large finced in area. I approached it and placed my hand on the old wooden wall. It felt soft and droopy from the rain. I followed the wall, soon finding my way at a sign that read "Woodbury" on the top. I froze, memories flooding my mind, walking up closer to the gate, I pushed it open a small bit, and looked through, finding nothing but the cold, damp fog that drifted around me now. From where I stood I could see that the place had been buned down. Smoak still drifting around in the air. I open the gate fully, it screaming into the air. I placed my hands firm on the knife that was in my pocket now, instead of my dream. Then I walked in.
Fifteen minutes went by, and I just stood there, waiting for my thoughts and sanity to float back into my head. I remembered everything, my wife Carol, my son; Ethan and my new born that had died the day after it was born. I stared stright out into the burnt town, scared to look down around. Memories of his birth flashed through my mind. It had happened 3 years ago, 6 feet in front of me.
Coming back here was a mistake. The only thing that seemed to replay the most in my mind was the memory of me shooting it in the head as it turned. My eyes started to tear up and twitch. I knew what would most likely be ahead of me, but I was hoping a lone walker would have gotten it or something. I don't think I could face it. I took a deep breath and let it out, opening my eyes, looking straight ahead.
In front of me lied a small fetus, wrapped in a old dirty shirt.
I looked down at it, but I couldent see it. I stepped closer to it, breathing deeply. Did it know that its father could ever be its murder? Questions always floated inside of me that I dident have the answers to. I never understood why so many people never wanted to find the answer to their problems. Do they not want to explore the world like I do. Or did.. I dident know, and I had begun to think I never will. I turned around and walked over to a pile of dark burnt wood, picking up a shovel. I looked around for an area that was soft enough to dig. I look over where the ground was damp from the ramp a few nights ago. Maybe it would work. I walk over to it, and began to dig a small but deep hole, tears forming inside the corner of my eyes as I did so. Thoughts of carol flutter around my mind, making me feel nausious. Once the hole is deep enough, I turned around and walked back to the fetus. Kneeling down, I feel nothing but scared to lift the old shirt off of it. Tears slowly side down my face as I reach my hands out to retrieve it from its dark carrier known as the ground. I slip my fingers around its hard cold back, closing my eyes tight, trying not to think about what I'm doing. I slowly stand up tears now rushing down my face. I feel dead and worthless as i pull up the cloth, seeking past it to the fetus. The wind starts to blow harder, taking the cloth with it into the sorrow filled world. I walk up to the hole I dug, kneeling down. I never imagined having to bury my own child. I stare into its eyes trying to see some kind of life that was there before but I find nothing but the dark blur of its decayed layers. Memories flush down through my mind I had had days before it was born. Thoughts of having another child made me so happy, I felt like I was the greatest father anyone could ask for. I felt complete.
Seconds later they all disappeared. I close my eyes tight, leaning my head to the fetus's forhead. I kiss it gently, as tears fall from his face onto it. My is mind slowly begins forget about everything but that moment. It feels as if everything is gone, dead, forgotten. Except for that moment. I lean my head back up and lower the dead fetus into the whole. All I can do is cry. It feels as if its the only satiscfaction left in the cold hearted world. I slowly lay it down looking at how its color has changed to a greenish black, and eyes the same. I reach into my pocket, pulling out a small necklace with a little arrow charm on it that says "Lori". I remember making it for the baby weeks before it was born. I wanted to name her that so badly. I knew how much Carol missed lori, and to be honest I did to. I watched it slip out of my hand it fall onto the center of the fetus's body as I let go.
" love you." My voice still weak and rough as if the dream ealier had been real. Tears fall down my cheeks landing onto its face. It almost looked as if its was crying instead of me.
I take one last look at it wishing that I had been the one to get hit instead of carol, the one to tell her not to go back to woodbury without me, and the one who would lay in the ground dead right now instead of my child that I proclaimed to protect. I feel regret, and as if it was all my fault. An it is. More tears come from my face as my belief in the lord starts to fade away. I look up into the sky, as the sun sets. My voice rough, and deep still from the sobbing.
"You promised to watch over your people, to protect us, but my family fell apart!" Everything I once believed of the lord started to disappear.
"Hershel was wrong..." I close my eyes realizing that I am now free of trying to do the right thing, and trying to praise someone so many believed in. I've always wondered what was beond this world. Was there really a god? Whas Hershel right about everything he said about him? I had no answers and I knew I would never find them. I mumbled to my self.
"so wrong.." I stood up slowly, lifting the shovel up, dropping the dirt into the hole, closing my eyes still not wanting to watch the burial of my child. I finished covering it, dropping the shovel down with a thump. My eyes were bloodshot red from crying, yet I look around trying to see the town through my wet, blurry eyes. Memories curry through my mind of the fetus moving, me having those 5 seconds of thinking it was alive, not a walker. Everything always dies, and that was how it was, and was going to be. I shake my head, letting the memories from my mind spill throughout the air, filling the world with the sorrow and depression I had felt for a long time. I was ready to leave and start a new life. But not a life people would choose. Death was What I wanted...
And death is What I got....
