Gray Skies (A Carl Grimes love story)

Pains of the Past

CARL'S POV

I sat out in the grass nearby the garden. I watched as Glenn and Maggie stabbed the walkers at the fence in the head. My dad had left me to finish chores; though I never do. Sometimes it was best to just slow down and think about life.
Well, life wasn't really on my mind. It was California. I couldn't stop thinking about her smile. And her eyes. They were perfect. Emerald green.
What had that kiss meant? Was it just saying, "You're my friend" or "Thanks" or "You're my good friend" or "You're my bro friend" or "I like you" or "I really really really like you"?
Preferably the last one.
Just then, California came to my side and sat in a patch of grass next to me.
"Hey," I said, trying to act chill.
"Hi," she said looking at her feet. She seemed kind of upset.
"What's wrong?" I asked her.
"Oh," she responded, realizing that I picked up on her mood. "Uh, I was just thinking about my family."
"You miss them?"
"Yea."
"So, not to like, upset you or anything, but, what happened with your dad? You never talked about him much. Even when we were kids."
She shifted uncomfortably. "Well, do you wanna know about him in general or how he died?"
"Both." I offered.
California sighed. "Well, you can't tell anyone, okay? Pinkie swear?"
Her small pinkie appeared next to mine. I wrapped mine around her's, sending an electric feeling through my arm. "Promise." I confirmed.
"...My dad was abusive."

"What?" I said shocked.
"Yes. Ever since I was three, he would... He would beat me." She pulled up her shirt revealing a large permanent bruise on her left side.
Rage surged through my body. "He- he beat you?" I said angrily, clutching and in clutching my fists.
Who would do that to my Cali? She was so perfect. She deserved only the best. How could he? Oh, if I knew back then, I would've punched his face in.
"Yeah," she shrugged. "Kind of like Ed did to Carol and Sophia. Beth told me." She said quietly.
"That's horrible. I'm sorry."
"So am I," she said sadly.
"So... how did he die?" I asked after I calmed down a bit.
"We were all just sitting in the kitchen before we knew what started. It was mom, dad, Hazel and I. But then, all of a sudden, this- this thing busted through the door and tackled my dad. We were all screaming and he was cursing. It bit his arm and he collapsed. My mom had picked up a lamp and smashed the walker's face in. We didn't know what to do. We called the police and 911. But it was to late. He reanimated and came at us. He got my mom, too. I had time to put her out of her misery, but Hazel and I had to flee the house. We gathered supplies the next few days and survived with what we could. I had to watch over my sister."
I paused. "You did a good job."
She shook her head. "No. I promised my mom I wouldn't let anything hurt her. I promised."
"Well, think about it," I reasoned. "For three years," I smiled. "You kept a little girl safe. From zombies. All by your self. And you started when you were twelve. That takes a strong person. Physically and emotionally. You did a good job. Trust me."
She shyly smiled. "Thanks. You're sweet," she said, lightly punching my shoulder.
I immediately felt my face flush into a deep shade of red. Apparently, she noticed it to. But instead of making fun of me, she leaned over and hugged me with one arm.
"I feel a lot better now. See you later." California said. She got up and limped towards the building, her golden hair swinging in a loose braid behind her.

Dang. What was it with her, kissing me or hugging me then leaving?
It was probably a girl thing. I smiled.