The Walking Dead Imagines (Requests OPEN)

[Carl Grimes] On The Road

PROMPT:
After surviving in the wilderness on your own after the death of your parents, you start to think you'll never find anyone again. Though, you are pleasantly surprised.

[Suggested by a friend of mine called Caitlynroselockwood and she is super nice so you guys should invest in following!]

The wilderness. The cold, the hot, the safe, the dangerous. You couldn't cover being out in the wild with just one description. It was unpredictable and unexplainable. You had been surviving in the wilderness for a while now, hunting, doing whatever you had to so that you could survive.

You were never that air-headed and obnoxious to go to the lengths of thinking you were the last person alive. That was just silly. You were a teen, completely normal in your perfect imperfections. There had to be others, older, smarter and stronger out there- surviving. The thing with this world was that those who had been lucky enough to survive, were sculpted into killers. Killers of the dead and killers of the living. The most dangerous remained the ones with the fully functional brains and the beating hearts. The others were a mere obstacle along your path.

Wilderness became the only dependable thing. You learned how to hunt and you learned how to defend yourself. It was as simple as that. Until you met him.
He was with three others. A tall brown haired, bearded man, a slightly shorter red-neck wielding a crossbow and a dark skinned woman tightly clutching a katana.

You saw them from a distance and immediately assumed they were the dead.
But the dead didn't speak, so when you heard the calm voice call; "Little girl?" Your heart immediately started racing.

After losing your parents in the worst way possible, trust issues were bound to happen. Though you couldn't bring yourself to run from them. Part of you needed a group. Part of you knew that if these people did turn out to be good-things would start looking up.

You made your final decision once you made out the fourth figure. It was comforting to see him. He was taller than you but not taller than the others, pale and lean, dark brown hair and piercing blue eyes. He was your age, which made you ultimately want to meet him. A boy your age? Boy oh boy, you never thought you'd see that again.

You stood in your place, just glued to the ground as they approached you. Probably should have yelled 'weapons on the ground!' Or 'hands in the air!' but you didn't have enough energy for that. Either they'd hurt you or they wouldn't. Simple as that.

The tallest of the three nods to the knife you weakly clutched in your hand.
"That all you've got?" He asked, looking down at you intensely.
Somehow, you were able to bring yourself to nod. He looks to the boy your age and the boy your age nods.
"We don't wanna hurt you- assuming you need us more that we need you. We have food, some water, a camp a little way away. If you could just answer us these questions, we can take you there."
They could have been rapists, killers, who knew. Somehow you trusted them. Maybe it was because of the bright eyed boy, who stared strongly at you. You believed that they couldn't have been that bad, since he looked like he'd been taken care of.
"What's your name?" The bright eyed boy asks you, his voice deep and gravelly.
"Y/n." You say, your voice stronger than you could have predicted.
"Y-n..." The bright eyed boy says, dwelling on your name. "I'm Carl. That's my dad Rick," he points to the tallest man with the beard. "Michonne." The woman with the katana. "Daryl." The man with the crossbow.
You nod again.
"How long have you been on your own?" Rick asks. You shrug.

Answer unknown. A few months, a year? A week. It was all the same. The sun rose and the sun fell, you remained the same. Why tell apart the fractions of your life by definitions such as days or years. What was the point of counting every darkness you've ever encountered. There was too much darkness in your life to be taking record of it.
"I don't know."
They all stare at each other, wondering what to say next.

"How many walkers have you killed?" Daryl asks.
Not many walked the forest you resided in. You'd only ever encountered a few here and they'd all been slow enough for you to outrun them. Before your parents died, you had killed a lot. They'd made sure you knew how to in case they died. Smart. A skill used too soon.
"A lot." You reply- because who counts?

"People." Rick says, creasing his brows. "How many people?"
Two. Your mother and your father. The day they were bit. You remembered every detail and every image from that day. It was a living nightmare.
"Two."
Rick cleared his throat, now looking uneasy.
"Why?"

You smoothed back your hair and stared at the ground, still aware of Carl's eyes on you.
"My mother and father. They were bit."
The uneasiness in Rick's eyes were replaced with sadness. Sorrow. No kid should ever have to kill their parents. No kid no matter what world. It wasn't right. It just wasn't.
"Come on." Rick says, motioning for you to join him. You walked beside the group and trudged along the dead leaves that fell from the forest trees.
"Did I pass your test?" You ask Carl. He nods.
"I'm sorry about your parents." He says, looking downcast.
"Me too." You reply.
"We've got a place though. It's safe. You can start a new life there."
The thought felt impossible.
"It doesn't matter where I am." You whisper. "I'll still be alone."
He nudges you gently with his shoulder.
"No you won't."

You blink slowly, biting your tongue.
"What?"
"Well. You're the only girl my age I've seen for a while and it would be nice to get to know you, so I'll be there. We can start off as friends."
You look at him, squinting your eyes.
"You don't even know me? I could be really mean...?"
He shakes his head. "Same goes for me- but for the record, I'm nice when you get to know me."
Yes, nice looking.
"Just hoping you are too." He says.
You play with your fingers. Nerves setting in your stomach.
"Anyway, Y/n, I think we'll get along fine. I think you'll like it with us. You'll fit in. Like I said, you'll get a fresh start- and I'll be by your side the whole time."

He was a nice boy and it was really comforting to see how kind he had been to you. Here he was, offering friendship.
"Thank you." You whisper. He smiles devilishly, shaking his hair out of his face.

"Really," he says, slipping his hands in his pocket. "The pleasure is mine."

I hope you enjoyed that! I didn't edit and I'm sorry if it's bad. Thank you all for the support! Love you guys.