Forever Broken // Carl Grimes

Chapter 1

8 Months Later
~April~

Breathe.

Oxygen filled her lungs, the smell of freshness engulfing her system. A euphoric serenity fell over her as she stood amongst the greenery. Warm rays of sunshine shone through the foliage of the trees, patterning the ground between the shadows. Her arms raised her weapon slowly, her movements as silent as the uninterrupted day.

Aim.

She tilted her face to meet the sights, her body completely still as she lined up her shot. Her heart drummed at a steady beat, her breathing seemed to slow with time as she lost herself in the moment.

Fire.

Exhaling, she pulled the trigger. The black bolt flew from her crossbow. The hare's ears sprung up at the whistling sound of the arrow, but it was too late for it to even consider moving. The bolt had already imbedded itself in the neck of the small animal, killing it almost instantly. She stood up, her crossbow held in her right hand. She picked up the hare, stuffing it into the bag with the other game she had caught. She slung the sack over her shoulder and began walking back the direction of Greenview.

She thought back on the eight months that had passed since they returned to Greenview. The winter had been long and tedious, testing their resiliance and strengths. The food ran low and they were forced to go in search of supplies for the harsh months. As spring rolled around they had planted many crops to sustain them for the years ahead.

Just a week after returning to Greenview they had found four more people who proved to grow close to the group. While Carl and Lauren were gone, the group had found these people only to lose them again. Abraham Ford, a heavily-musceled bearded ginger man who entertained everyone with his out-of-the-blue witty remarks. Rosita Espinosa, a tanned, strong brunette woman who Lauren had come to like. Eugene Porter, a mullet sporting man who seemed helpless, but held a courage inside that was only waiting to come out. Lastly, Tara Chambler, a dark-haired, kind-hearted woman that seemed to see the better side of most people.

She looked down at her crossbow, a weapon that had been given to her by her only biological family left alive, Daryl Dixon. The weapon was black in colour, smaller and one-handed unlike Daryl's. It clipped onto her gun belt when not in use. He had found the weapon and a quiver of bolts whilst on a raid.

"Dixon's need crossbows," He said, holding out the weapon, along with a quiver of crossbow bolts, "At least ya' will have a lil' somethin' to remind you of yer family. If anythin' happens to me, you'll have somethin' to remember me by."

Lauren smiled at the memory. She had used the crossbow, along with her machete for many months. Her aim had improved impeccably, the weapon proving more than useful in many situations. She felt a connection when she held it, a reminder that she had family, even now. Her machete sat in a sheath on her back, one in which one of the Survivors had made for her from leather they had stripped from a couch.

Leading the Survivors haden't been easy, she had to make hard choices, ration food and supplies, but in the end they had made it through. Sam had helped her along the way, offering a hand when needed. Lauren never saw any of the Survivors as pawns to use in battle, or out in raids with the hope they come back with something useful. She often went herself to make sure it would go alright.

There was moments where she felt like they wouldn't move forward. Particularly when Maggie lost her baby, only a month after finding out she was pregnant. It was difficult to see a future when it had already stopped before it started. Maggie had taken it better than Lauren had thought but it had left its scar. She had Glenn to pull her out of that dark abyss.