"Because I needed to put them out of their misery," you respond.
His intense, bright, blue eyes. His sleek, long, brown hair. His smile that's hard to hate. You just can't get enough.
When it started, you were independent, only Flare was there to ac...
The door opens. A familiar hand comes in to view. It was just like how you first met. You grab on to it trustingly and she hauls you up. Now you understand the reason behind why she did it. Why she locked you up in this room. "You lil'," you start. "Shut up and know your place," she responds quickly. "Don't disrespect me, asshole." "Why?" you ask, testing her limit. "I'm your sister for shit's sake, I should be the first one to know," she argues. "I did warn you." "Fine, fine. I get it," you roll your eyes in annoyance. "Now where's Carl? For real this time. Don't give me another one of your stupid lame ass answers." "Calm down, jeez," she replies. "Let's go. I'll take you." She helps you walk down the hall in the room across from yours. As soon as she opens it, everyone was either seated or standing, waiting for Carl to respond. He continues to lay there, lifeless. Your blood begins to boil. "That idiot did this to himself. He shouldn't have come," you sigh. "Don't tell me you're blaming him," Rick defends his son. "Well, what else did you want me to say?" you respond hastily. "Hell yeah, I'm blaming him." "Yo' kid," Flare shakes her head, signalling for you to stop. "It's best we take him home," you sigh. "We've got meds there. Anything and everything you could ever ask for." "The RV," Glenn says. "It's out of gas." "Oh? So that's the problem?" you begin to mock him. "It's outta gas! We're gonna die!" "What are we supposed to do?" Rosita snaps. "Take this for now," you toss the extra pain reliefs you always keep. "He should be up in no time. I'll take care of him. Just go find gas." There was a moment of hesitation before everyone started to move. Once the coast was clear, you take out the special ointment. Your mother always made it for your father to treat burns since he always worked with heating metals. It was a homemade remedy. You spread it all over his skin. You did this to him. You shouldn't have let him go. "Hey." You look up, his eyes were open. First thing that came to your mind was how long. How long was he awake? You were curious, but decide it's best not to ask. Instantly, you give him the painkillers and he refuses. "How about you? The gunshots?" he asks worriedly. "Don't worry about me. I've survived a lost worse than this," you reply, reassuring him. "Alright then," he takes your word for it. He grabs the pills and washes them down with water. "Where are the others?" "They'll be coming back soon. The RV ran out of gas," you explain, rolling your eyes. "I swear to god, we passed only a couple million gas stations." "I know right," he laughs with you and you enjoy listening to his voice. "I saw them too." "Carl?" the door opens followed by Rick. He runs to him joyfully and they have a happy reunion. It almost made you sick and you try your best to stay polite because Carl was involved. You hate sappy shit. Especially when it's happening right in front of you. "Thank god you're okay." "I'm fine dad," he replies confidentially. "Yo, War Child," Flare calls you. You don't like the sound of her saying it. It's better when the name rolls off Carl's tongue. "We got some big news. More like huge. Both good and bad though." "Shoot," you respond, ready to hear whatever she was about to say. "We found a bank," Flare says. "The catch?" you ask. "The whole damn thing is full of walkers."
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