Meltdown ♔ C.G.

[0.5] ▸ SCINTILLA

[ River by Bishop Briggs ]

Warning: Vivid descriptions of violence
•••

Carl ♛
The sweltering air envelops my body and motivates the beads of sweat glistening against my skin to stick to my brunette locks. The barn is uncomfortably warm, even more so now that the sun begins to illuminate the room with its rays. Normally, a sight like this would be peaceful, euphoric even, with the gentle glow and promise of a new day expanding across my surroundings, but under the extreme  conditions of this summer, my stomach almost churns at such a display.

      As much as I absolutely loathe offering even the slightest bit of attention to my wound, I can't help but to adjust the gauze shrouding it from view; heat now creeps underneath the dressings and pinches at the hidden flesh. I cringe as I bring my hands up to my face. 'What a shame.' I remember overhearing the whispers and taking note of the exchanges made between Denise and the townsfolk soon after the incident. 'It's pretty bad for a kid his age. He's missing some of his memory, a little bit of his skull. Should heal up within the next few months, but the results won't be pretty.'

    Huh. It proves difficult to recall much before that night, in the infirmary. Of course I haven't forgotten my mother, father, other people whom I care about. I remember Sophia. Dale. Hershel and his farm. In fact, in was in his spare bedroom where I received surgery for the first time a bullet ever came in contact with my warm flesh; I was only ten at the time. Such a boy, once overflowing with laughter and a certain fondness for the world has now hardened, both his physical and emotional disturbances verifying the plethora of hardships he has come to face over the years.

Anyhow, I didn't allow slumber to consume me for more than about ten minutes last night. Alexandria is perhaps in ruins. . . no doubt, our community is scattered everywhere, however, that thought isn't the only hindrance preventing my eye from surrendering to the sweet enticement of sleep; I am now faced with the presence of another human in addition to my younger sister, Judith. Of course, it was indeed my decision to have the girl resting right now in the stable across from my own, I won't deny it. . . but what else could I do? Kill her? She has yet to do anything wrong. Eliminating her before she's even gotten the chance to merely touch a weapon of any sort would make me just as vile as him. Negan. The last thing I desire is to mimic his savage ways.

My gaze focuses back on the girl. Madison. I try to read her expression, but her empty stare is the only thing I receive in response; if she is conveying any emotion whatsoever, I can't tell. It's dangerous having her here, I'm well aware, but is she trustworthy? Would I be able to let her go without risk? There's always a risk, Carl, no matter what you do. There will always be some sort of risk.

"C'mon. Let's go," my voice interjects, unable to bear another second of the silence. "What?"

     "I said 'let's go.'" As I stand up, my eye doesn't dare to shift its attention away from the girl, however, she just continues to lay among the damp straw, that scrutinizing gaze of hers never once faltering. A huff of annoyance escapes my parched lips. "Do you want to find food or not? Now, let's go."

     At this, Madison rises to her feet and takes a few wary steps in my direction. Good. I don't know much about her, but I also don't intend to lose my life to starvation among all the other hazards of this hell.