Forever Broken // Carl Grimes

Chapter 22

She had been alone for days.

She had memorised every crack, every scratch in the ceiling. She haden't seen any people besides the one that came to force food down her throat, stitch her torn body and clean her wounds. She didn't speak a word, she wouldn't know what to say. The pain in her back had lessened, but not as much as she had hoped.

She couldn't sleep.

She would just lay awake, the hours ticking away. Any time she mercifully fell into unconsciousness, she would jolt back into reality as the whip hit her body, the horrible memory invading her every waking thought. She remembered the man, the man with greying hair, dark eyes and that smirk, that laugh. She remembered it. She remembered his name:

Negan.

She remembered the fear, the terrible metallic taste of her own blood. She remembered the pain, the misery, the point in which she had cracked. Before that, was just a haze, without colour or clarity. She felt like half of a person. She tried so hard, she strained every tendrail of memory she had, but she couldn't focus on anything. She remembered a boy with blue eyes, a girl with long dark hair. She remembered the world, what it had turned to, but she could not recall anything in detail.

"My name..." She breathed, her voice shaky and uneven, "My name, my name, my name."

She shook uncontrollably.

"I don't remember."

She felt tears sting her eyes. She felt empty, like everything she was had been locked away beyond her reach. She could feel the power, the strength deep inside of her, but she could not attain it. She was bound in chains of her own fear, her own terrible subconscious. She tried so hard to remember the smallest of details.

"I-I'm seventeen," She whispered, "My eyes.. they.. they're.."

She couldn't even remember what she looked like, what colour her eyes were. She bit her lip to prevent herself from crying out and forced her battered body to slip off the bed. She felt the salty tears sting her eyes once more, the pain spiraled, shockwaves flowing through her body like liquid fire. She straightened herself, taking a laboured step forward. She dropped like a dead weight onto the concrete beneath her feet. She screamed, sobs vibrating her fragile body. She reached upward and hoisted her body up, her hands clamped onto the sink. She gritted her teeth and rose.

When she stood up straight, she didn't recognise her reflection.

Her hair. It wasn't right. It wasn't hers. It was short, choppy, like it had been hacked off. The longest pieces grazed her shoulders. Her eyes were blue, a greyish stormy blue. Her skin was pale, almost white, clammy and porcelain. Her face looked gaunt. There was no light in her eyes, nothing that reminded her of her former self.

She was nothing but a shell, a cracked and broken husk of a girl she no longer remembered.

"Who am I?" She screamed, her throat was already raw, and the words were scratchy. But in the little wisp of strength, she felt a light flicker inside of her. She held her head in her hands, straining the little bit of herself that had floated to the forefront of her mind.

"Lauren.." She whispered, "My name is Lauren."

It was a small victory in a much larger war.

"Is it?"

Her body had gone rigid at the sound of that voice. She remembered it, the fear. She backed away from the sound, the man coming into the light that shone into her bleak cell. The light that had ignited inside of her squashed out, the memories of his torture flashing before her eyes.