Walking Dead-Carl Grimes

Crying Skies and Stressful Journies

Vallory's P.O.V*

       I was cold.

     Cold and wet.

         The rain pounded against my skin with the roar of a shotgun, cotton candy skies polluted with wisps of grey and yellow. The clouds whirled together like spindly hands joined in a truce, agreeing to work together to flood the mud floor into oblivion. I was on my back. I couldn't move.
     My breathing was shallow, like I'd been running even though I had no memory of doing so. I felt a sense of appeasement, like I'd done everything I'd ever needed to do and I could just rest. Rest and watch the thunder shake the ground beneath me and the lighting tear up my surroundings in a blaze of amber and cerulean.
                         The feeling was short lived as the pain and sadness I'd been bottling up over the last few months overflowed. The mental block I'd created cracked as the tears flowed, and soon I was crying along with the skies.

                           The sky had to watch us die; Had to watch fate unfold helplessly as the people it watched grow from little babies to adults get torn to shreds by demons sent by their opposite.

        I found myself crying for all of the stolen lives; for the children born into Hell whilst others tried to escape it. I cried for my family who I'd surely let down; I cried for my friends who's lives depended on me. I cried for Carl and I cried for Jayden and Lenny; For Gale and or Mika and everyone else I'd ever met.
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                        I woke up with a start, body pulsating with emotion and a warm body pressed against mine. It took me a minute before my mind caught up with the current events; I shuddered. Carl groaned, nuzzling hid head into my shoulder and tightening his grip on my waist. I checked my IPod; It was 6 AM.
"Why're you awake?" A voice croaked, I jumped. It was Gale.
"Why do you think?"
"Nightmare?"
"Yeah."
"Same."
                My eyes caught the window, a sliver of sunlight peaking in with soft fuchsias and fire orange, ivory barely standing out in the mix. I could hear faint growling in the distance, nothing I wasn't use to, but the fact that I could hear it over the quiet breathing and snores caused me to worry.

                                        10 minutes later everyone was awake and packed, and we had made a decision to get moving as soon as possible. If the adults really did head back to the prison then they'd need all the help they could get.

~Time Skip~                             *Chandler's P.O.V.*

                        The sun was at its peak when we finally took cover under the thick canopy of the forest. Val's cheeks were stained red while the rest of her was cooked a darker shade. She was beautiful, with her crooked teeth and unruly hair. She was imperfect, but that's what made her perfect. She was walking with Ruth, who had her hand folded happily with Mika's as they swung arms, giggling about something or another with a bouncing baby clinging to her. Judith seemed completely infatuated with Val, maybe it was because she was one of the fist females to try to spend time with her after what happened to mom, as everyone saw the little girl as the cause or a wicked memory of something lost. But Val, Val saw her as a new beginning. A pure heart in an evil uprising that must be kept innocent, the future generation must be one of peace and unity. Willing to fight together against the walkers and famine, instead of seeing each other as threats.
                        Though the leaves blocked the sun, the trees didn't do much against the humid air that left everything moist and sticky. My hair was damp with sweat as I readjusted my hat, reloading my gun just incase I'd need it. Val skipped up to me, slotting her hand into mine as we walked ahead of the group, watching for any herds. It has been incredibly quiet these past few days, but we weren't planning on the lucky streak to last.

                            Only twenty minutes later did we encounter our first pack of the day. They left us soar and tired, having swung our arms and tackled the tall walkers to be sure we got their heads. We could take care of ourselves, contrary to typical belief. If only my father could see me now.

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I'm changing Mika's age to 12 so I can feel less bad about shipping her and Ruth.