Crestfallen ↬ Carl Grimes (old version)

T R A I T O R

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: TRAITOR

❝When you meet someone who tries their hardest to stick by you regardless of how difficult you are, keep them. Keep them at all costs because finding someone who cares enough to look past your flaws isn't something that happens every day. ❞

  ❝...Who are we?❞

  ➳ 

BRIGHT FLAMES FLICKER DANGEROUSLY IN FRONT OF MY HOLLOW BODY, threatening to give away to the small breeze around us as it gives my skin an almost sickening appearance. My dark eyes stay trained onto this small piece of light, never fully grasping the images of my surroundings as I continue to lose myself in my thoughts. The nauseating monster that once took home in my stomach has now given away to the numbness of time, my hunger a distant memory replaced with bitter thoughts of the future and half built plans on what we could possibly do if this Terminus place wasn't really what it promised us. But of course these were only thoughts, and Terminus was merely just blind hope. There was truly nothing any of us could do at this point.

The crackling and sizzling of the fire disturbed the warm silence that has made its way between each and every one of us, along with the occasional bumping of hands and rustling of packs, none of us conversing much. It wasn't needed. We welcomed the silence as an old friend. Open arms and bright eyes ready to embrace this form of living. We being Michonne, Carl and I. For Rick had nothing else on his mind than trying to get any one of us to talk, even if it meant making a fool of himself in the process. 

"How hungry are you guys, a scale of one to ten?"

The question was stupid. Any person with a brain could tell that each one of us was on the brink of starvation. But Rick's tone had no hint of seriousness in it, nothing less than light humor laced in his words. None of us really felt the need to point out the stupidity and reality of his words. So Instead, we answered the stupid question with our own stupid answer.

"15."

"28."

"...10?"

Chuckles and true lightheartedness echo throughout the group at my comment, a smile even threatening to appear on my stone cold face.  What an odd thing this new world is. It shouldn't be this easy for us to laugh and smile as if we didn't have the blood of a thousand corpses on our hands. Yet we still do it, and we do it without thinking twice. It's almost as easy as killing someone.

"Yeah," Rick chuckles, almost as if his sharp blue eyes could read my every thought, "Well, it's been a while." An emotion I can't decipher flashes across his face, disappearing as quick as it came and leaving me curious as in what it could mean. What double meanings belong to the words this older man speaks? Truthfully, I doubt I will ever know the full background of the three people in front of me. But I don't mind, for I will never tell them my true background either. It would scare all of them away, and nobody needed that right now.

The older man dusts his hands off on his jeans, sending a smile towards each of us as he stands up, "I'm gonna go check the snares."

My heart sinks even further as my gaze levels with Rick's. We both know that there is a less than likely chance that there will be anything at all in those animal traps. Either the walking corpses have scared them all away or something bigger, like another group. But that only leaves us back to where we started, with empty bellies and light hope.