WASTE • Carl Grimes

Nine

I push my knife into the soft skull of a walker before pulling it back towards myself and kicking the walker down to the ground, making sure to stomp on its hand as I walk away from the scene.

Blood and flesh covers both my clothing and face when I make my way into the store I had just put down about a dozen walkers for me to get into.

Surviving the apocalypse this whole time on my own taught me to be confident and to simply go for it. Whenever I see a place spiting dozens of walkers, I take a deep breath and put them all down just to get in.

What's the worst that could happen? I die? That's more of a favor to me than it is a threat.

If I end up dead, then so be it, but if I don't then I'll go on with my day knowing that I still have such an ability within myself, which never fails to make me proud of who I've become.

I barely recognize myself anymore, but if I have become anything, it's strong.

I throw a bunch of canned foods and other necessities into my backpack, smiling to myself when I see two full boxes of sanitary napkins. I grab those and shove them into my backpack before scanning the rest of the place for more things to take.

I see something that catches my eyes from a distance and stop in my tracks, staring at it from where I am positioned before walking towards it and throwing it into my backpack.

••••

" Carl? " I call for the boy who accompanied me in my adventures once I walk into the house we spent the night in, eyebrows furrowed in confusion when I see no sign of him around the place.

Carl's usually sitting somewhere, either waiting for me to come back from my run or sharpening his knife, sometimes he'd be asleep too if he is not on one of his many runs, but never as invisible as he is right now.

The old, dusty house is dead silent to the point where the sound of the walkers outside fills the place more than it usually does.

" Grimes " I call for him one more time, but still, I'm left with no response.

I shove my knife into my pocket and start walking upstairs, shrugging the whole situation off.

He's probably on a run.

Where, though? I scanned the whole area.

Do I even care where he is?

No, I don't.

I don't.

Do you, though?

No. I absolutely do not. He can be dead for all I care.

But I should check whether he's here or not, maybe I could pack my shit and leave now.

" Grimes? " I call his name one more time, waiting for a few seconds to hear his voice but I roll my eyes and decide to walk further into the room across from me, but the sound of something coming in contact with the ground catches my attention.

My eyes turn towards the door on my left, realizing that it's shut.

You've got to be fucking with me.

Pulling my knife out of my pocket, I take long, angry strides to the door and push it open, ready to shove my knife into whoever is hiding inside, but I retreat once I see someone id rather not shove a knife into, a breath I didn't know i was holding escaping my lips.

He stands in front of me, his eye on the mirror ahead of him as his right hand bleeds, blood trashing the sink and covering his face and clothes, dripping onto the floor.