Crestfallen ↬ Carl Grimes (old version)

C R E S T F A L L E N

CHAPTER ONE: CRESTFALLEN

❝The soul usually knows what to do to heal itself. The challenge is to silence the mind.❞

❝The only way for me to continue living is to remember that I am not dead.❞

➳

TEENAGERS SHOULDN'T KNOW HOW TO KILL. They shouldn't be used to the way blood feels dripping through their fingers. And they definitely should never be left alone. Or else, sooner or later, their thoughts will start eating them from the inside out.

I've never been the one to enjoy big houses and empty rooms, for I've never seen the reason behind plush pillows and frilly curtains. But now, ever since I've been alone, I've taken comfort in this empty shell of a house, larger than my own before the dead awoke. I'm used to these pale green walls and dusty furnishings. I know every creak and sound that belongs to this house. Every twist and turn, every shutter and curtain. Everything here belongs to me, but in all the wrong ways.

I wander around the hallways now, running a hand along the worn out wallpaper as I do so. How many memories have these walls seen? How many bittersweet moments have they watched unfold in front of them? All of these questions had no answers, for I couldn't answer them truthfully. All that's left in this crumbling house is faded wallpaper and dusty picture frames. With only my thoughts to keep me company, my brain is beginning to replicate the hollowness and void nature of this house. Never would I have thought that I would be this powerless and fragile because of my own thoughts. It takes time to remember that the impossible can happen, especially now, with humanity being held at the end of a sharp blade.

Ever since the heavy burden of being alone was placed on my shoulders I began to get used to the sounds of the dead. By now, It barely registered in my brain as the inhuman noises echoed around outside, giving my brain nothing to be alert about as I sat down in one of the wooden chairs in the kitchen. That was all I could do anymore. Sit, stand, walk, think, wander, repeat.

When I first arrived in this neighborhood, I was smart. In less than two days I had raided out three of the houses in this neighborhood without one drop of Walker blood spilled. But now, I can feel the effects of my longing for blood, forced to clench my shaking hands so hard that my nails dig into my calloused skin. There were barely any supplies left in the rotting cabinets and stale bedrooms, my troubled brain barely even able to remember the last time I went out to gather any supplies at all. But that just means I just have to live through it until I couldn't handle it anymore.

I don't know what's causing me to stay in this specific house, with its Walker infested rooms and broken windows and doors, anything could get in and grab me in my sleep. But nevertheless, I continue to take shelter in this home filled to the brim with broken memories made by strangers whom I will never meet in real life, because they are most likely dead. Death doesn't sadden me anymore. Or place fear in my heart. It gives me reason and sanity.

The only way for me to continue living is to remember that I am not dead.

My scarred hands trace the wooden table as my brain is washed out with thoughts and heavy memories. When will these days end? The days where all I do is sit around and wait for nothing while thinking about everything. Eating, sleeping, and drinking are not a priority for me anymore. I don't care about the hunger in my stomach and the pain in my chest. All I want to do is wait. But for what, I have no clue.

The sound of creaking and glass being broken doesn't bother me either. Who cares if someone finds me? They'll most likely feel sorry for me, or disgusted at the sight of me. A barrel to the back of my head, who cares?

The days go by fast, I barely ever leave shelter unless I absolutely have to. Staring at blank walls and counting my supplies help me pass the time. And sleep is nowhere near my mind as I sit in this stiff chair. No matter how boring sitting and waiting is, these two rules must be kept. 1. No blood is to be spilled unless it is absolutely necessary. 2. No matter what happens, don't go to sleep. Even if I have to hurt myself to stay awake.

Day after day, night after night, and then finally... the sound of a gun clicking into place, the weapon pressed forcefully into my skull. This person was here to end my life, and I welcome it.

➳

Hi, guys! Hope you enjoyed the first chapter of Crestfallen!

What'd you think of it? Was it too rushed or maybe too confusing? Throughout this story, I'm going to be trying my best on actually developing the main character and actually giving her a reason to be someone meant reading. She's not here to just be a love interest of Carl. She's going to have many scattered memories and broken emotions; some easy to interpret and some difficult. So I wish you the best of luck on your journey of reading this trash book.

Nonetheless, I really hope you guys enjoyed this first chapter! I'll be posting the next chapter most likely sometime next week just to edit and stuff like that.

Happy 2k17!

If you enjoyed this chapter make sure to avoid being a silent reader! Comment, vote, and follow for more awkward writing!

Sincerely,

Your Awkward Author,

Andrea ♥️

{EDITED}

{PUBLISHED JANUARY 1ST, 2017}

{WORD COUNT: 1022}