No Matter What... | The Last of Us | Joel Miller x Oc

Chapter 2: Austin

I hand over the squirrels and rabbit I managed to shoot in the forest, to Emma. She's the elderly lady who usually cooks for the common dinners. Her face is a bit chubby and her hair is silver colored - lots of grey mixed with the few black ones she still has here and there. I feel extremely bad when she thanks me, knowing that after I leave, the community won't be eating another stew for a while. Probably.

I know a few people who have a good aim here, but none of them can really hunt, for hunting requires one to be silent. Knowing where and how to place your feet on the dried branches and crunchy leaves requires time to learn.

I feel guilty. I have to constantly remind myself, that I am leaving for my sister. We are family and we should have never forgot that. I shouldn't have reacted the way I did either.

Back then it felt right as I was way too much buried in my self-pity. But now, years later, with enough time of thinking behind my back, I see that she went through a trauma herself as well plus she had me to worry about on top of all. Of course, she changed. Who wouldn't...?

I immediately head to the direction of my shared apartment to silently pack the most essential things I think I'll be most certainly needing on my way. I decided that I am leaving tonight. When most people are sleeping there are only a few to avoid. I know, I am mastermind sometimes...

And I really don't want to say any more goodbyes. The one I had with Elijah worn me out more than I'd expected. If it was this painful with him, I don't even want to think about how it would go down with my closer friends.

Besides, I am not sure they'd let me just simply leave. FEDRA, the authority behind the military ruling the quarantine zones, made it quite clear that you cannot leave your camp just like that and whenever you feel like it. I don't exactly know the reason behind this, I mean, I guess it is easier to keep things in order if quarantine zones are not operating like motels where people keep checking in and out, but still...

Nonetheless, me knowing the guys who guard the entrance wouldn't help me out either as they won't just deny their orders for my sake. So, I have to do it quietly. And lucky for me, I know exactly how to be quiet.

Since I was always a tiny bit smaller than other grown up people I had to face, I quickly learned that sneaking was a better option for me than fist fighting. I know I can walk as silently - even with shattered glass under my feet - as if I weren't even there. I can be a ghost.

As I am making my way between the fixed-up houses of Anderson Mill, back to my apartment, people keep greeting me. I know mostly everyone and it is true backwards as well. I think about how I might have even earned some kind of respect among these people, by hunting and helping whenever I can.

The residents of this quarantine zone are truly just refugees here. Lots of children and teenagers, a few elder people and left behind members of torn families, all broken inside already... For them, going out to hunt is already a brave thing to do, let alone going by yourself. In their eyes I am some kind of a brave savior...

They don't really know about my past here, about what kind of life I lived years before joining them. I think if they knew, they wouldn't respect me at all... But worry not! I don't respect myself either... I know I left that life behind, alongside with my sister, but what I went through during those times will forever stay with me...

I know we did it for survival. Though I also know I was good at being bad even if it left a bitter taste in my mouth. But I am not proud of it.

When I arrive back to my room, I silently thank God, for my roommates not being back yet. They are probably out, doing their obligatory community tasks - taking care of the gardens and plants, repairing buildings, cleaning, cooking, helping the military guys shifts - all the things people do in smaller, more family- ish quarantine zones. I shut my door on myself, all I need is in here anyway.