A Yellow Dress Forgotten [ABANDONED]

Interlude || Ep. 1.5.1 | A Little Girl Remembered || 9.5k

It wasn't until Christa woke up at the riverbank, deaf in her right ear, did she realize what she lost. So she wanders alone. Bitter. Cold. Mournful. Calloused. Find the woman she once could've been. Find a little girl remembered.

[5 Years Ago]

The attic was musty with a haze of dust, not helped by the rhythmic bashing that slowly (but surely) drove a crater through the wall. Across the room the three rested, silent for a few moments as they allowed the wall's destruction to fill their ears.

A man sat on a coffee table, and despite being of tall stature and impressive build, he was worse for wear. Breaths gradually coming undone and rattled by the hour. Skin not quite as dark as it had been that morning—already it was a dull, bleak brown. Every now and again, his eyes would unfocus, and his weight would drift off to the side as if he was falling asleep.

And then there was the arm that had been chopped in half. That was an issue for his health too.

"Lee..."

He blinked and fixed his soft eyes back to the couple on a couch. The woman's voice was gentle, if weary. She rubbed her white and purple jacket, and beside her exhaled an overly-worn man with an infected leg who hadn't yet cracked a joke. Which said a lot, considering Christa always found Omid to be the comedian.

Despite having asked for it, she turned away from Lee's gaze and sighed. Omid, as direct as ever, asked the question that burned them both: "So what do we do when we get there? Going to deal with the man or what?"

Lee shook his head. "Only if we have to... I don't care about anything else. Clementine is what's important right now. I just want to get to her safe and get her out of this shithole."

"...and you?"

There it was. The core of what Christa wanted to hear, asked so quietly from her boyfriend's mouth. But because it stung, she hissed, "Don't talk like that. We'll all get out of here and away from the city."

"No, no... I'm not going to."

"W-Why?! I cut off that arm, didn't I? Surely it did something!" Christa snapped, her throat tight.

"And it did," Lee murmured quickly. "I don't feel like I'm going to faint, and it's like this fever's gone down." Omid and Christa watched him carefully as Lee rubbed his chest. "But it's like I'm about to get sick, you know? The only difference is that I... It feels more than that. I'm so tired, and if Clementine wasn't out there, I-I wouldn't want t' do anything."

Gradually, Christa's nod came, and Omid rubbed his hands together. "But...Clementine? What about her? After you..."

"Die?" It was so blunt and hollow, the couple could only grimace. What struck Christa the most was how calm Lee was. She wondered if he'd accepted his fate hours ago. Lee's brow grew firm, and he watched them closely. "I want you two to take care of her, for after. I know she'll be safe with you two."

"Okay..." Omid whispered. Christa could only tighten her lips and nod again, her gaze drifting back towards the corner of the coffee table. The thought alone that a little girl was running around with a madman was enough to stress her, but the thought that it was Clementine—the same girl who talked all about her plans when she saw her parents again, and how Lee was so much like her father, but maybe softer... Christa couldn't even process it.

And Omid knew, so he gave a chuckle and said, "Well, I guess I'll have to try out your shoes then, Lee. I'm good at being a friend, but not an apocalyptic baby-sitter."