"Falling in love. And say, it's crazy. Falling. You see? We don't say 'rising into love.' There is in it the idea of the fall." -Alan Watts
This isn't just some story where the boy and girl fall for each other, and everything is okay. It's a story w...
"The reality is that you will grieve forever. You will not 'get over' the loss of a loved one; you will learn to live with it. You will heal and rebuild yourself around the loss you have suffered. You will be whole again, but never the same. Nor should you be the same, nor would you want to."
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***
I didn't stand up for a long, long time. It felt like time had frozen, and nothing was moving. Everything was silent except for the ringing in my ears and the throbbing of my head.
"We should get him," Michonne broke the silence.
Rick nodded and later returned with a sheet, twine and some shovels. It was time to go in.
My hand shook as I reached to push open the rusty door, but Rick put a hand on my back to reassure me, and I opened the door fully. I took several steps in, avoiding the fallen beams of the church, and I looked through the stained glass window shining light through, and it was directly pointed at the lifeless body.
Carl's lifeless body.
My lips parted slightly, and my heart sank to my feet. I shuffled to his body and saw a bullet hole through his temple, the gun at his side and his eye open. His perfect blue eye that I would never see again. I bit my lip to keep silent, and my trembling hand reached to touch his face one last time. I hesitated at first, but I finally reached his pale face.
I could hear Rick and Michonne slowly breaking at the seams right behind me, and I had to finish it. Me. I gently ran my hand up his cold cheek until I reached his eyelid, and I closed it, the world never to be graced with the beautiful colour ever again.
I took a step back, and the two adults laid the blanket over the top of him and began to lift him. I kept cover as we made our way next to the walls, in case of any harm to come.
They placed him down, and I was about to get up, but Rick handed me the twine. The two started digging, and I stood beside Carl's body, looking for tree branches. After collecting them, I pulled out my knife and the twine, beginning to wrap the rope around the two twigs to mark his grave. After what felt like hours and taking shifts in digging, we needed to put him in the ground.
It was painful to touch his hair as we lowered him into the grave, and it hurt the most to start shovelling dirt over his delicate body.
My tears started pouring down my dirtied face as the sun beat down furiously. After patting the dirt down, I placed the marker into the ground and grabbed a nearby rock and before placing it down, I carved the letters C.G into it and placed the stone down.
Taking steps back and seeing Michonne not able to look at the grave made my heart break. It was all compacted together until I sank to my knees and silently sobbed. The pain that flowed was unbearable; my heart physically hurt. Rick held me, and I held him tighter as if giving him any sort of comfort after losing his son.
