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It was a shame. The dampened rug that sat beneath her feet, a subtle puddle of warmth yet the difference of her tears and mangled wet hair were indistinguishable, dribbling in rivulets down her cheeks and plummeting to the rough grounds. The tips of her toes grazing the rough carpets as her features scrunched and she sobbed, balling the unusually soft sheets in her fists and biting onto the caps of her knees. Her jaw trembled and her lips curved inward, sputtering incoherent sounds as if she were trying to get words out into the empty room. It had been years since she'd touched such a divine material yet there she sat, pitying herself and everything she had come to be. Even the noises that emitted from her dried lips screamed pathetic in an unpurposeful way.
She was like a sealed book, showcasing no more than the cover and what she'd presented herself to be. It was something that built inside her like a volcano, waiting, heating and bubbling as it waited for the pinnacle of its time: to erupt. Savagely and mercilessly, a regular cycle for the young and broken down girl. Her grandmother had always praised her strength, her valiant ways as a young female in such a brutal and unkind world. But her sobs and breakdowns were a regular occurrence, something that came so natural and made her doubt who she'd molded herself into. She wondered if that was what it took to be strong in the first place.
Clenching and unclenching her bloodied fists, she took a step from the edge of the small bed and gazed down at her wet, chaotic making. The sheets were a simple cotton, blue and somewhat adorning to the rock solid mattress beneath it. Her heart stung a sharp and unbearable pain, her fingertips trembling without warning. They had been no better than what she'd slept in pre-apocalypse, but with the awful, nasty conditions she'd been accustomed to prior Alexandria, it was like sleeping on beautiful clouds.
Contrasting to what occurred outside the walls in which she was trapped. Not only was the sky a deep blue-gray, swirling dark clouds filling overhead, but walkers stuck to spikes and growled and snapped, their guts and remains scattered along the edges of the fences to scare off any unwanted visitors. A quick peek outdoors through the one source of light in the cramped room only made the sinking feeling inside of her plummet more. A subtle pitter-patter against the window and it would have effectively symbolized her mood.
She pushed the damp hair from sticking to her perspiring forehead. With the dreadful weather only adding to her morose mood, she shuffled over to the simple chair in the corner of the room. It resembled a piece of furniture she'd had in her old King County home. Plopping on it and sprawling her arms on the rests, she jumped as a knock broke the eerie silence of the room.
She quickly scrambled to the doorknob and turned it, hoping somebody would guide her to a departure of some sort. Although her grandmother would scold her and beat her up about what she'd done, there was nowhere more she wanted to be than in the elderly woman's embrace. Dwight stood stiff behind the door, his gaze dropping to the fragile girl. She raised a hand to her face quicker than he could notice and wiped away the wet feeling. "Negan wants you."
