Crestfallen ↬ Carl Grimes (old version)

N E A R

CHAPTER ELEVEN : NEAR

❝But my heart isn't simple or straightforward. It's a complicated mess of wants and needs...soft, rough, and everything in between, an ever-shifting precipice from which to fall.❞

❝I'm going to get out of this house and get back to Carl, even if it means I have more blood spilled on my hands.❞

➳

WHEN I WAS ALONE, I WAS FORCED TO THINK FOR MYSELF AND NOT FOR ANYBODY ELSE AROUND ME. But now, having to include others into my plans, was like a big slap to the face. I wasn't used to it, the odd sense of worrying about others and hoping that they made it back okay and that they were safe. If it were up to me, I would keep everybody close by and not have them leave my sight, they couldn't die that way. Death itself was a reality check, and now I had to include others into the equation. Not everything will go as well as it did when I was with my father. And even then, bad things still found their way to me. I couldn't let myself give away like I had when I was alone. I had others now, and they were strong survivors. I had to be one too or else how could I possibly survive with them? Yes my brain will continue to wander and surrender to my thoughts, but I will not act upon it. I could not act upon it.

Even though I'm telling myself these things, I can't help but let my hand reach out for the empty picture frames in front of me. I was no longer in the bedroom that I had broken down inside of, giving up the only bed big enough in the house to Rick,who's feet dragged with exhaustion. Instead, I had relocated to the only remaining bedroom in the house, where me and Carl had read our books peacefully only yesterday. Whilst I shut myself inside this room, Carl and the dark skinned woman-Michonne- were downstairs eating and chatting away, catching up on life I'm guessing.

Michonne was a strange woman, to put it simply. The way she held herself screamed strong hearted survivor, but her dark eyes were tender and caring towards me. She didn't question me, or even point out my presence. She greeted me like a friend, and that was what I loved about her. But the more I payed attention, the more I noticed the connection between her and Carl. They seemed to have a mother-son relationship, yet they acted like best friends towards each other, joking about soy milk and too-large T-shirts. That was when I had decided to leave the room and give them some privacy. There was something with me and reunions. I didn't hate them, but I also didn't like them either.

It didn't take long for Carl to find me. I was hovered over the small dresser that was pushed against the back wall of the room, absentmindedly touching the jewelry and picture frames that were placed on top of it. It wasn't like I was trying to hide from anybody, I wasn't guilty of anything, so I didn't tell the blue eyed boy to leave. I knew something was on his mind by the way he fidgeted around and shuffled his feet, but I was waiting for him to say something. After a while with no words spoken from him, I finally decided to to turn around, tugging on my sleeves as I looked him in the eyes.

"Something wrong Sheriff?"

He snorted and rolled his eyes at the nickname, taking a couple small steps forward as he did so. "No, not really. I just wanted to let you know that, um, me and Michonne kinda decided to go on a run together. We're leaving in a couple minutes."

It was an odd thing to feel nervous for somebody. Nervous for their safety and well being. I guess that's what made me immediately reach for the knife on my hip, instead I grasped at empty air. That's right, my knife was safely tucked away in my bag downstairs.