SILENCED [TWDGS4 Clouis]

-. ..- -- -... . .-. 9

1 month later.

I'm just going to say this: I'm a happy guy. I like to think of myself as a joyous person. But it's truly been hitting me hard. I just can't talk. I've tried for hours upon hours in my room, rolling what's left of my tongue, making grunts and puffs that barely resemble what I'm trying to say. And now, I think just about everybody has noticed that I'm not so happy and cheery anymore. I'm an insect which can't do shit. Except from hiding. And it doesn't help that Willy believes that he's some sort of superhero, trying to save me from my eternal gloom. Guess what? He fails every time.

There's a knock on the door. I stay silent - that's what we agreed was the 'yes'. They open the door. It's Clementine.
"Hi Lou." She says as she sits down on the bed next to me. "Not feeling well, are you?" She takes my hands and connects it to hers. I don't try to pull back; I still love her. Her eyes on the night of the roof held so much emotion, and I felt a connection.
"We need to talk. You haven't gone out on survival duty for days. I know it's hard for you right now, but it's hard for us too. And I know that you're strong. You're just putting yourself off."
I shrug. She's completely right. I haven't helped them in ages.
"I also know that you're hurt, but so am I. And so is everyone. You need to stay on track. To stay focused on overcoming your injury not by learning how to talk, but learning to live without it."

At her words, I glance at her scar. It's not fresh, but still looks bright red, like it was cut a day ago.
"Follow me, we should do some work together." Clem stands up, and I reluctantly follow her.

~~~

The only noise in the room is the pen on the paper as I write into my music book. After a few minutes of writing and testing the notes, I start playing the right hand. The first section is calm with higher pitched harmonies, and the music becomes more and more intense as it goes. I've only composed the first few seconds so far. Only when I'm done do I realise I have an audience.
"That was really good!" AJ says enthusiastically from behind me. I smile and motion my hands to invite him over. I'm getting good at getting my basic message across with my motions, but it's not the same as words.

He starts to press random keys, and then presses every key from lowest to highest. He tries again, with the black keys this time.
"I like that one." He says in fascination. Leaving him to explore by himself, I stand up and walk towards the gramophone, open our music closet. I relay the several pieces and then the books before picking up a disc and and placing it next to the gramophone.
"We played that thing at the party!" He exclaims, pointing at the gramophone. I raise my eyebrows. They played music during a survival crisis? Sounds like the Ericsons kids, in all honesty. After checking it for scratches, push the disc into the machine and start it up.

Jazz music explodes in the room, surprising both AJ and me.
"That's really loud." AJ warns me. I tone down the volume. It's been ages since I've heard this machine working. Just when the music speeds up, we hear a loud bang.

Gunshots aren't part of the music.

I look out of the window and gasp.
AJ looks at me worriedly, and gets off of the piano seat to go outside. I grab Chairles from his stand in the hall and prepare to rush out of the room. AJ starts running towards me but I shake my head and point at the piano room. He grumbles and goes back. I open the door.

The scene is hostile; the benches are tipped over again, placed in rows, and there are walkers flooding in and being shot immediately from behind.
"Show yourself." Clem yells, raising the Pistol Violet used to own. I run behind a row of benches and crouch next to Clem and Vi.
"They - don't know who - are going to come in anytime now. I'll get up to the tower, shoot from there." Violet explains, pointing at the tower which she frequently climbs on starry nights.
"Shoot whoever the leader is, because you're only going to get one safe shot from there." Clem replies. She is right - when Violet gets one shot in, they'll aim for her too. I guess Violet hopes for one good shot only.

As she slips away, I look to my right to see that there is a second row of benches, where Aasim, Ruby, Tenn and Omar are hiding. None of them have a proper weapon except Omar and Aasim with their knives.
"Who are they?" Aasim asks from his spot.
"We'll see." Clem says shortly. As they talk, I quietly sneak away to the side to try and grab the bow, but it's out of the protection. I've gotta risk it. Hastily, I sprint towards the bow and pick it up and try to sprint back. My luck's out, though. They enter the yard.

It's a group of 8 men, all armed to the teeth. Goggles. Maybe Helmets. Rifles. Almost military level gear. I duck fearfully behind the benches, hoping they didn't see me.
"Well, children. Is it cause your teachers left you that you're so uncivilised?" One man shouts, every word slow, deliberate. Filled with anger. I peek through a gap in the bench. The men have indeed got helmets, which might make Violet's job much harder.
"Come out now, or we'll rip your school to shreds." He yells aggressively. Clementine stands up. I panic.
"There's one of them." The man at the front laughs unpleasantly, "Hey you, girl, remember me?" He says, and takes off his helmet.

"You."
"Yes! Maybe not all my friends were dead, you see? And maybe you shouldn't have fell for my stupid crazy man joke." He sneers. It's the man that we had captured. We had let him go and given him access to our location. Shit. As a few things race through my mind, I realise that maybe we should've killed him after all. Clem says something about killing children. I see why: she's trying to prolong his helmet-less state. Violet strikes. The man screams in sudden agony as a bullet drives through his jaw. It's only three seconds before Clem dives behind the cover once again and the sound of bullets echo in the yard.

———

Hey everyone. Small edit job and reminding myself of the story. I'm updating because I owe it to all my readers and I want to write something. I hope I can do something.