the weight of living; c.g.

[0.5]: stories

The sun was shining fully when we stepped out of the cell block. People were doing various jobs outside, some doing what I had been doing earlier at the fences. I stopped some of the younger girls down near the fence, talking and walking. Maybe I could introduce Grace to them.

"Let's go talk to those girls, maybe we can make friends." I smiled down at Grace, who just shrugged her shoulders. We approached the girls as they walked along the fence.

"Hey, I'm Bridget and this is my sister Grace. We got here yesterday." I decided to go for the direct approach, walking up alongside the girls.

"We know you. I'm Lizzie and this is my sister Mika." The taller one said.

"Nice to meet you two. What are you doing?" I tried to sound friendly.

"Making up stories. About them." Lizzie pointed out, across the fence, to where the biters pushed against the boundary.

"See that one? She was a nurse before. She had a baby." Mika spoke up, gesturing toward a decomposing woman with skin hanging off her arma, bones exposed.

"You make one up." Lizzie turned to me, a challenge in her eyes. I looked out to my options, biters pressed against the chain link. I chose one, a man with one eye missing and ribs exposed. I crouched down to discuss with Grace and stood up after.

"That one. He was a middle school teacher. He got bit while trying to protect his students, at the beginning." I pointed him out, Lizzie and Mika's eyes following my finger. They nodded, accepting my story.

They continued like this, making stories. Grace started to join in, becoming more comfortable. It was nice seeing her with other kids.

"Hey, story time's starting! Are you guys coming?" Mika looked down at her little watch. We nodded, following them up the hill, back up to the prison. They maneuvered through the insides until we reached the library. Carol sat on a chair in the middle of the room, children sitting in front of her.

I let Grace go sit down the Lizzie and Mika, who she seemed to be getting on with pretty well. I stayed standing and eventually drifted over the the shelves as Carol read. It felt like forever since I'd seen a book.

I leaned against the short bookshelf as Carol read, watching the kids. She got to the end of the story, closing the book. One of kids, who didn't seem to be much of a kid, more my age, asked to be excused. After he left, Carol pulled a box out from under her seat.

"Now, I'm going to teach you to use one of these." She pulled a knife from the box, the metal glinting in the sun from the windows. I heard steps next to me, seeing Rick's son, Carl, enter silently. He made eye contact with Carol as she was speaking about defense and her face went white.

"Don't tell your dad." She look scared. I don't even know Rick that well, but I'm pretty sure he would disapprove of young children being taught about knives.

The room waited, everyone's eyes on Carl, to see what he would say. Without a word, he left the room. I looked over at Carol, who looked back with fear in her eyes.

After story time finished, I walked back to the blocks with Carol. Lizzie and Mika had invited Grace to go play with them, so I was on my own.

"Do you think he's gonna tell?" I asked Carol as we walked.

"I don't know, Bridget." Carol said, defeated.

"What's wrong with him? Carl, I mean." I mustered up the courage to ask the question I was dying to ask.

"He's lost a lot. This life's hit him hard." Carol stared off into the distance as we walked.

I waved goodbye to Carol as I entered the cell block and she went off to do something else. I was walking past the cells when I heard a baby crying. Curious, I stopped in front of the cell it was coming from. I stepped towards it, knocking on the wall beside the opening. No one answered, but curiosity grabbed me and I pushed open the curtain.

Baby Judith was in a crib, apparently down for a nap, but it seemed she woke up from it. I walked towards her hesitantly, looking back every few seconds. With steady hands, I picked her up out of the crib, holding her in my arms. I bounced her a little, like I used to with babies, before all this. After a few seconds, she stopped crying, just staring at me. She seemed to be getting sleepy again, her big blue eyes starting close.

"What do you think you're doing?" A voice came from behind me. Judith was startled, crying out again. I turned, seeing Carl behind me.

"S-She was all alone and she was cryin', I thought I-I could help." I stuttered, looking at the dangerous face he was making. He took her out of my arms, cradling her himself.

"Get out of here. I don't want to see you in here again." His cold eyes met mine and I backed out of the cell. As I stumbled backwards, I bumped into Rick, who seemed to be going into the cell. After making confused eye contact, I turned and ran down the hall, down to where my cell was.

I put my back against the wall, breathing slowly. The vision of those hating eyes kept coming back to me, chilling me to my bones. My fear turned to anger quick, thinking about how unfair his hatred was. All I did was comfort Judith, what was his problem?

I shook my head, trying to rid myself of the memory. It was best to let it go, to just pretend it didn't happen. I decided to distract myself by going out to the fence. Trying my best to avoid the Grimes family, I made my way outside, looking at the fences. There was a buildup of biters, making the fence tilt a little. I put my hand on my machete and walked down there.

Without a word, I joined the others who were helping relieve the buildup. Everyone seemed to be too busy to notice me, which I appreciated. I started stabbing, feeling the anger wash out of me with every fallen biter.