𝓽𝔀𝓭𝓰 𝓧 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻 || [𝘀𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗼𝗻 𝟰]

Chapter 1 (Childhood)

Word count: 1487
*edited*

I was alone, hungry, sad and scared.
My birthday was a few days ago, I turned 8. My calendar was never wrong and I make sure to tick off each day as the morning sun rises.

I have always been a smart girl.. - smart for my age, I guess. And with the world going to shit and the dead walking freely, I became smarter and stronger every passing day.

I've been moving for a long time.

Clem had to shoot lee a few months back. That was the hardest thing she'd had to do. After that tragic event we had to keep moving forward.
Oh clem?
She was a girl I once knew.
She's one year older than me. We were separated in a moving horde near the Marsh House way back.

I tried to convince myself she's dead and what added on to it was when I found her hat on the floor, partially covered in blood splatters. It was the same hat she wore everyday we hung out together- before the outbreak.

I kept that hat close to me and eventually, it ended up on my head everyday.
I missed Clementine and Lee so much.
Oh and Lee? You'll hear about him soon.

My parents never stuck around. They were actually one of the first to go. Honestly, I wish didn't care about them.
Almost everyday before the outbreak my mom and dad argued. I was an only child because my parents "learnt from their mistake". Dads words.

[flash back]

One day, they were fighting about something. They fought about the money my dad took to satisfy his impulse to gamble. He had a real gambling problem and he was driving us broke.

My dad had grown a temper over the weeks and just became a no good drunk.
To make his 'anger' towards the matter more realistic, my dad got up and slapped me across the face. The slap echoed and the stinging sensation on my cheek grew to prickling pain. I fell on the floor, holding my cheek as tears swelled up in my eyes.
Mind you, I had just turned 6 at the time of this  incident.

Honestly, Clem was the reason I was some-what happy. I didn't get a good childhood because I was surrounded by negativity and because most of it was stolen from me. Stolen by the walking dead.

*1 year from then*

I was now 7. One night, I heard my mom scream.
I laid still in my bed, forcing my eyes shut, trying to sleep. It didn't get a reaction from me because it didn't seem anything completely out of the ordinary.

I heard her panicking then I heard my dad's faint grunt. He sounded like he was gasping for air but more growling the air out of his lungs. I got up out of slight fear and curiosity, slowly approaching my door.

"Y/N!" (Your name) my mother cried.
I slowly creaked my door open and saw blood pouring out of my fathers throat and forehead. My mother stood there staring at me, shaking and scared shitless. My expression changed from curious to terrified in a split second at the sight of my fathers blood harshly pouring from his lifeless body.

"H-he tried to eat me," she held up her arm revealing a salient bite on her forearm. My mother's movements became sloppy and she looked lightheaded- like she was about to pass out.

"M-mom?..." I call, almost whispering as she fell to the ground, unconscious. I rush to her. I didn't yet understand what had happened to my mother- or father,for that matter.

I crouch to her level and listen closely to her heart to see if she was still breathing. Her skin had quickly but ever so slowly faded to a greyish pale shade. I listened to her heart again and the beating slowed then eventually stopped.