REMEMBER ME HAPPY | r. grimes

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"What the hell was that!? That-That thing attacked me!" Silas yelled, completely out of breath.

I didn't respond, but instead, unlocked my car and yelled at Silas to get in.

I sped through the car lot to reach the end and began driving down the road. All around us lingered the sick people.

Was that the appropriate thing to call them?

I wasn't sure what they were, much less what I should call them. It didn't fit to call them people. Silas and I were people. Not these-these monsters on the street.

On every corner, more and more people were being bitten by these so called freaks.

I had only cried one other time that I remember. It was the first time my dad laid his hands on my mother. I vowed from that day on, I wouldn't show any weakness. That I wouldn't be like my mother, who just took the abuse my father handed her.

Until today.

I didn't even notice I started to cry until Silas pointed out my wet, tear-stained cheeks.

"You okay, Emmy?"

I gulped, wiping my eyes. "What the hell is going on?"

"I think. . ." Silas muttered. "I think the world just ended."

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EMERSON JOY SCOTT WAS NOT A PERFECT PERSON. Anyone with any sense could see that. In fact, Emerson Joy Scott was judgmental, kind of bitchy, and incredibly impatient.

The 30 year old had life by the reigns and no one could take them from her. She had her mother's kind eyes and her father's headstrong attitude. While she believed she was everything but kind, a little boy believed differently.

Carl Richard Grimes thought the world of Detective Emerson Scott.  She was his hero.

On that first night, Carl sat with a little girl named Sophia. Her mother, Carol, stood beside them as she watched them play card games to pass the time.

Lori Grimes, Carl's mother, had run off with her husband's best friend after hearing all of the commotion coming from the opposite direction of the traffic.

Not far from Lori and Shane, stood Emerson and Silas.

"You're kidding me, right?" Emerson spat. "All these helicopters and they can't pick–"

As if right on cue, bombs dropped into the city of Atlanta. Emerson's home became destroyed in a matter of minutes.

Before anyone had time to react, chaos broke out amongst the crowd. Instinctively, Silas grabbed Emerson's arm and made a break for it.

"We've gotta hurry before they run us over!"

Back at the Pelletier vehicle, Carl heard the commotion and against Carol's screams, ran after the crowd to find his mother and godfather.

"Leave him be. His choice." Ed, Carol's wife, called from the driver's side seat.

Carol only nodded, a sad expression left on her face.

As Carl ran against the current of the crowd, he suddenly fell to the ground.

Stop. Cover. Roll. Or was that for a fire drill? Carl asked himself. The seven year old curled into the fetal position as he covered his face, thinking about what his father would do at a time like this.