Crestfallen ↬ Carl Grimes (old version)

L E A V E

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: L E A V E

❝Please, for the sake of my shattered and exhausted heart, don't turn out to be like everybody else.❞

❝ If I ever wanted to actually live and survive, I'd have to do it the best way. The only way.

Alone.

Always and forever more,

Alone. ❞

➳

DARK EYES CLASHED FURIOUSLY WITH WICKED GREY ONES AS LEN AND I CONTINUED OUR STARING CONTEST, the sick man continuing to bang on the grime layered window frame with the handle of his knife.

"Stay back from the doors" Carl commands, trying to position himself in front of me as if it would make the conclusion of this situation better somehow. He was trying to be the savior coming to my rescue. He mistook my heavy breathing and fast heartbeat as signs of fear, but they were the complete opposite. Anger. Anger at myself and my poor thinking and actions. Every fiber of my brain and heart had known that something bad was about to happen, and this was it. It was stupid enough to even let Len live, but it was complete idiocy to let everyone else's heart beat in that house. How could any of us not foresee what was to come? No matter how hard I try I can never turn back time, but if I could, I would do it in a heartbeat. For it was far too late now for any of us to do anything, so all we can do is grasp at straws and improvise until one of us can actually do something to get us out of the mess we have landed ourselves in.

The sounds of yelling and laughter continued to ring throughout the once silent night air, the words being blurred together as they try and make it through the thick windowing and exterior of the car. Rick and Michonne. They were outside with no way of me or Carl being able to tell if they were okay or not, much less try and save them. These two adults that I have slowly begun to look up to are survivors. From the stories I've heard and the scenes I have experienced in front of my own eyes, I know that those two have more than enough skills and patience to make it through this world, this little event will only seem like a tiny hiccup to them in the future. This should be nothing to me, for it may be nothing to them. But as for Carl, he has more than enough reason to be afraid for them. Nothing I can say will ease him at this moment, but I needed to make sure he wasn't going to do anything rash. For Rick and Michonne's sake. He needed to see the difference between a situation where it's good to just jump out and start shooting people, and one where it's the worst idea ever.

"Carl-"

"Milah," he cuts me off, taking me by surprise as he envelopes my cold hands with his warm ones, "Milah, on the count of three I want you to run out of the door behind you. As long as nobody sees you, you should be fine. As soon as you get out there, start running, and don't look back."

His words were clear enough, yet confusion still plagued my every being. It wasn't Rick or Michonne that had Carl worrying. It was me. This person in front of me wanted me to run away, he wanted me to be "safe" and maybe even have a chance of living. But how could he not realize how impossible it was to actually act out what he was saying? How could I just run away and leave him and his family behind, leaving me alone with my thoughts once more? How cowardice and selfish would I seem if I ran instead of helping the people I cared about? If I did this, it would mean I haven't changed from the old Milah. The cold hearted, bloodthirsty, monster of a girl. But to him, it didn't matter.