Lolita woke up early. Her dream's were bothering her and she was resonating heat like a furnace. She must have kicked away her blanket in the night because it was at her feet.
Remembering that she had fallen asleep beside Carl, she shot up, the color immediately draining from her cheeks. But when she turned to her left, no one was there.
She was both relieved and confused at the same time. But she expected nothing less of some one she was yet to fully know.
Sitting in the corner of the room was Carl, carving into a stick of wood. He was drawing what he had too, seen in a dream. It was Lolita. As a walker. He had been so spooked that he woke up in the middle of it.
Rick nor Michonne were up yet.
Observing the room, Lolita spotted Carl. She pulled herself up and approached him, unsure of what to say.
"You have a bad dream too?" She wondered, eyes lingering to her fingers.
He looked up at her for a moment, than returned to carving into the wood.
"Yeah." He replied in a quiet tone. He was still in a bit of a daze from yesterday's events, but he tried to shake it off, no matter how much it pressed at him.
Pursing her lips, she opened her mouth. "What-- What was it about?" Lolita asked, and directly after she said it she mentally slapped herself. Obviously, it was something bad if he had forced himself awake. She shouldn't have asked.
Carl cleared his throat, and swallowed before he parted his lips to speak. Of course he wouldn't tell her the truth.
"My mom." He lied.
Lolita looked up at him, and bit the inside of her cheek.
"What happened to her?" She asked carefully, and as kindly as possible.
He carved into the wood so hard and so rough that he could nearly have cut his finger off.
He knew it was probably better to talk about it, but it still hurt. He barely knew this girl.
"I killed her." He said through clenched teeth, still pressing at the stick.
Lolita suddenly felt dizzy. And nauseous. He had to have done it to for a good enough reason, hadn't it? She wouldn't believe this boy would kill his own mother for nothing. She could have turned.
"Oh. I'm-- sorry-- I--" She stopped, her mind spinning.
"No. It had to be done. It--It's fine." He muttered, tossing the stick behind him. No use for it.
She suddenly found common ground.
"In a way-- I killed my mother too." She spoke, empathetic. "She was-- stressed out about having a kid. I was just a burden. She couldn't handle it. She couldn't handle nothing," Her nostrils flared. "So she offed herself."
Carl's heart suddenly dropped, and he tried so swallow, but his throat ran dry. Honestly, he didn't know which situation was worse. And it didn't matter. They were gone now, both of them.
"Don't say that-- it's not your fault. You can't blame yourself for that." He voiced, leaning closer to her.
She nodded, but didn't fully agree. How could she? She had always taken the fault. But if it did anything for her, it numbed her. And in a way, she was grateful for that. Now things didn't have to hurt as much.
And then from behind them both they heart a groan and the shifting of a body. They turned around instantly, as if they were getting caught doing a crime.
YOU ARE READING
Dead Hearts (TWD Carl Grimes)
Fanfiction"Once upon a time, there was a poor child, with no father and no mother. And everything was dead. And no one was left in the whole world. Everything was dead." Lolita was all on her own when the group came and found her scavaging for food in a subur...
