Dark Serenity - Carl Grimes

•Chapter Twenty-Six•

Playlist// When You Sleep - Mary Lambert

*Carl's P.O.V.*

The only sound I could hear were the steps my father and I took, and the orotund sound of the trees as they blew against each other.

I looked straight ahead, taking my dads previous advice and not looking back.

It was him. He was the reason I'm not holding Grey this very moment. He shouldn't have talked it through, he should've let me shoot him. Let us all aim for one person, we could've easily kept our home. Now they're dead. They're all dead.

Greyson's dead.

"Carl." My dad gravelly said from behind me. I keep walking, staying focused on where I was going.

He's the reason Grey is dead.

"Carl! Slow down." He wheezes out. I ignore my dads plea and keep walking. Just this morning I woke up to Greyson's smile. I woke up to her resting her head on my chest and her arm wrapped tightly around my torso.

"Hey! Carl stop!" My dad calls, and I finally oblige. I stop, but I don't turn to face him. He limps until he's beside me and stares at me. I coldly stare ahead, ignoring my dads solitaired glares.

"What's gotten into you?" He asks, over guessing the fact that I won't even look at him.

"Maybe it's the fact that I could've been sleeping in my bed with Greyson tonight instead of an abandoned house that I will most likely die in." I tautly say, walking away from my dad.

I knew he heard me when I said 'with Greyson'. He didn't know anything about Grey and I, and now he knows that the only thing I've granted my trust is now gone along with the secure shelter I had.

I know I sound selfish, but I'm mourning. Not only the loss of Grey, but of my friends, family, home. Everything was up in flames and all my dad could say was "slow down".

After a while we stroll through a tiny neighborhood, all of the houses looking more torn up than the next.

"This ones as good as any." My dad deadly says. I look to my left and examine the house. It was two story, white, and had solar powered lights lining the driveway. It was falling apart at the seams, but better than the awaiting houses on the street which were already torn apart.

I stop in my tracks, staring at the house. My dad limps past me, grunting as he does so.

When were both on the porch I hold up my gun in a warning stance. My dad looks at me, dumbfounded.

"Keep watch." He says.

"You keep watch." I snap. "I can do it alone."

"I know you can." He encourages, getting in his normal raiding stance. "But you're tired. Just let me do it."

"I'll lead." I announce, not backing down. Finally my dad gives in, positioning himself to open the door.

I aim forward, ready to shoot anything that comes in my path. He throws all his weight at the door, breaking through with the first attempt.

We both rush in, our guns cocked and ready.

I emerge into a room with a staircase in it, ignoring the fact that my father wasn't following me.

Around a minute later my dad follows where I went and walked into the room I was in, his look torturous.

"Carl!" He wheezily says, glaring at me.

"What." I blandly say, rolling my eyes at his presence.

"Don't go running off. Wait for me." He growls, his emotion staying aggressive.

But, I wasn't afraid of him.

I turn and stare him straight in the eye and say two words I never thought I'd say to my dad. Especially not now.

"Watch me."

I hit the butt of my gun against the wall, creating immature noise. "Hey asshole!" I strident. "Hey shitface!" I rarely cussed in front of my dad, but when I did he got angry. Very angry. "Hey-"

"Shut your mouth!" He screams, taking a step towards me.

"Are you serious?" I moderate my emotion. "If there was a walker in this house it would've came out by now."

My dad just stares at me coldly. His jaw clenches and his eyes are filled with fury.

"Check upstairs." He raucously says, leaving me there. I trample up the stairs, thinking of anything but my previous glory in the prison.

I walked into a child's room, touching objects as I do. The kid had a gaming system I used to play before the apocalypse started. He had games that I had loved when I was younger. Everything the kid had owned I had either wanted, or had.

I look across the room and see something I hadn't seen in a long time.

I saw my reflection. My features all popped out. Obviously, Greyson didn't care about looks.

I wiped off some smeared blood off my cheek and examined my features in an advanced way. My eyes were bright and blue, my skin paler than I had ever seen before, and my lips busted open and red.

I looked like a ghost. Immortal.

I straighten my father's hat on my head and look away. I'm glad there wasn't any mirrors at the prison. Never would I want to voluntarily look at my reflection.

Beside me was something I never thought I'd see before. Comics. And a ton of them.

Batman, Wolverine, and Spider-Man.

Spider-Man was the comic I read to Grey her first night at the prison.

I feel a tear escape down my cheek, lathering the situation with self-loathe.

I rush to wipe it away, not wanting anymore tears shed after earlier.

I hold onto the comics, happy I'll have some world to escape to when this world turns to even more shit than it already is.

I look to the area the comics were and see something I never thought I'd see again.

A Walk To Remember.

~*~

HEY GUYSSS

sorry I didn't update yesterday I was busy

*cough*

WATCHING AMERICAN HORROR STORY

second best show ever

The Walking Dead of course being the first ;)

I wrote most of this Sunday and just now finished with like the last four paragraphs so hopefully it's okay

HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED

You're beautiful.

Don't be a zombie.

BYE NARWHALSSS!!!