(UNDER HEAVY EDITING) lost cause ⋙ Carl Grimes

Chapter 29

[this chapter moves too quick and has cliché moments. (It's at the end) YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.]

[DOUBLE UPDATE!]

Chapter 29
Nebraska : S2 E8
Part : 3

|Haley|

I was tired and I felt useless. I got up, because I knew I had to do something.

I didn't want to seem to clingy to Carl.Maybe I should start by thanking Daryl.

He had moved further away, from out camp. He was on the edge of the field.

It took a while but I finally reached it. He was sitting on a log, carving something.

He didn't move an inch as I came.

"So, what're you doing?"

He looked at me and scoffed.

"No answer. I get it. I just wanted to thank you for earlier today, dragging me away from the barn."

"That wasn't anything."

"It saved me from passing out."

"If you pass out from that, you're one weak kid."

I scrunched my face. "You think I don't know that?"

He raised his arms in mock surrender.

"Then teach me how to be like you. Teach me how to be strong."

Daryl looked at me.

"I want to learn to protect myself." I said, my British accent slightly showing.

"Then ye' should go to gun practice." He said angrily getting up.

"Gun practice won't do me any good. I have the worst aim."

-

"Like this." He said gruffly, giving me back the knife. He was teaching me how to use a knife 'properly'. I never knew there was a 'proper' way to use a knife.

We had worked on hunting a little, but Daryl decided that it would be better if we started out with a weapon.

I did it as he showed me, and finally got it correct.

"Wasn't that hard now, was it?"

I shook my head and grinned. "Nope."

Daryl looked at the sky. "We should get going. Don't want to stay after dark."

-

I walked up to camp, and grabbed the guitar from next to the log.

I strummed, mentally singing. I'm coming home, I'm coming home--

I got this weird sensation of being watched, so on instinct, I turned around to see who it was. Carl was leaned up against the tree, looking at me.

"What do you want, sheriff?" I asked with a smirk on my face.

"Well, dear citizen of mine, I would like to apologize."

I stopped my strumming, and he sat next to me. I looked over to him, to see he was smiling. "For what?"

"For literally yelling at you for no reason." He said matter-of-factly.

"Your forgiven..."

"Yes!" I heard him whisper under his breath.

"If.."

He groaned. "Why if?" He whined.

"If we learn more about each other."

He smiled, widely. "Okay, I'll start! Okay....um, what was your boyfriends name?"

"Peter. Have you ever dated someone?"

"Nope. What happened to your parents?"

I looked down. Was I ready to tell him? I guess. "My mother died, and my dad left me."

"What? Why?"

"I don't know. He just locked me in a room with walkers." I shrugged. "What was your first thought, when Sophia...came out?"

I could tell that it was touchy for him, because he let a tear slip. He looked down, but I put my fingers under his chin and turned his face towards me. I put the guitar down with my other hand, and brought it to wipe the tear.

"Next question." I smiled. He smiled back, and asked his question.

"Where did you live?" He asked.

"Atlanta, until a few months back. My parents decided to move to Oxford."

"That's where your accent comes from!"

I giggled. "Yup."

"What was your first thought, when you first saw me?"

"Hmm..let's see. I thought 'YAY! Children! My age!'.. I thought you were cute, but you were probably a douche--"

"Hey!"

I laughed, but he just chuckled. We looked at each other, and after my laughing died down, I leaned against him. "This isn't the kind of world I like, but, I'm glad it happened. If it didn't I wouldn't have met you guys, well, shortly, you." I said, pink tinting my cheeks.

"So I'm special?" He laughed as he turned towards me.

"You just make it more...bearable. Even the old world."

"What did happen in the old world?"

"You'll hate me for it." I sighed, running a hand through my straight, brunette hair.

"No, I won't. I like you for you."

"Cheesy." I laughed. "Oh, Carl. I would take everything I ever did, said, back if I could. I would throw myself into a herd of walkers to get eaten alive, if it meant that I could take back everything."

"Did you murder people?" He laughed.

"Worst. You know those people who are stuck up...bitchy assholes? Like in movies? People who make others lives a living hell?"

He nodded. I buried my head in the crook of his shoulder. "I was their queen."

"You couldn't have done something that bad. Not bad enough that you want to get eaten alive."

"I did. And I hate myself for it."

He rubbed my back in a soothing way, and it really did make everything better.

"Go ahead. Hate me."

"I could neve--"

"KIDS!!" Came a yell from the house. It was Andrea.

"Come on. Let's go." Carl said grabbing my hand and pulling me up with him. I was still leaned against him, and my feet were giving out. The light from the house bothered me, so I grabbed Carl's hat and put it on my head.

He chuckled, but didn't say anything.

I looked over him, and saw him again. I quickly looked down, letting Carl lead me home. He gave me hand a squeeze as we walked up the porch steps.

Andrea put her arm over the both of us and took us inside, where everyone seemed to be.

[so I'm 12 too, and I can relate to them. People who say these are unrealistic or too fast, this is how I hang out with my friends too. We say cheesy/cliché stuff [and thangs]. But im not a bully.]