My civilisation (D.D)

(CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND TWELVE)

112 | The Death.

THE TUNNEL SHOOK AND FIREBALLS exploded around them - burning Alexandria into dust and rubble. Their home, was slowly being burnt to the ground, into ash and destruction, yet all they could do was await for the saviours to depart, and to take the devil with them.

And so when their engines blasted and their vehicles drove away - leaving behind only fire and blood, the Alexandrian's pacing nervously within the tunnel prepared to leave and to escape to the Hilltop. They gathered their bags and they rounded everybody up, Daryl had took ahold of Judith's hand and sworn to keep her safe. Though, before they were able to exit the tunnel, a hoarse voice halted Daryl in his tracks.

"Let me say goodbye." Said Carl, in a croaky voice and Daryl obeyed. The young girl stood in front of her brother, and the rest of the group watched the interaction between the two siblings both silently and sadly - their breaths hitched within their throats.

Carl who still lay quietly, coughing on each breath and sweating after each action, took of his hat slowly. His whole demeanour was sickly - his face appearing as pale as a moonlit sail, and his lips a cold blue, deprived of blood flow. His eyes seemed further carved into his sockets, and were watery and blood shot, still as he sniffled, he was able to be heard when he addressed his sibling in a raspy voice.

"You be good, okay? For Michonne. For Dad." He inhaled sharply and withheld a sniffle. "You gotta honor him. Listen when he tells you stuff. You don't have to always. Sometimes, kids got to show their parents the way."

Judith stared at her brother with wide, curious eyes - she didn't quite understand all that was happening, but the tears within her brothers eyes were enough to trouble her.

Carl held his hat out to the infant in front of him and could not help but sniffle lightly. "This was Dad's before it was mine. Now it's yours. I don't know, just having it always kept Dad with me. It made me feel as strong as him. It helped me. Maybe it'll help you, too."

       Carl pictured all the times of which he wore the hat and was able to feel brave - the times of which he felt lonely, or scared, and somehow, just wearing his dads hat made him feel loved, or feel safe. He remembered how he gave the star that was pinned to the front of the hat to Ophelia, and he hoped that she would treasure it - he knew that she would keep it safe, and he was glad that he gave it to her.

       And from the time that he stuffed his face in with pudding on the top of a small rooftop, to the time he was escaping Terminus - he hoped that wherever his sister would go, she'd too feel safe with it. Whether she would feel his presence or their fathers, he didn't mind. As long as she felt safe.