Crestfallen ↬ Carl Grimes (old version)

N O C T U A R Y

CHAPTER SIXTEEN: NOCTUARY

❝ My brain has no heart. My heart has no brain. That's why when I speak my mind I seem heartless and when I do what's in my heart I seem thoughtless. ❞

  ❝I have to try. Trust me, Michonne. I have no other choice.❞

➳

Milah felt herself smiling, the kind of smile that lit up someone's face brilliantly behind curled fingers as laughter rung throughout the air. In front of her, her father stood in the midst of all the grime layered, broken down shopping aisles, his face contorted into what was supposed to be a disgusted grimace, only to be broken down by small chuckles here and there.

"Are you sure this is the right thing, Milah?" He questioned, extending the box as far away from his body as possible, almost as if it were some sort of bomb that could go off at any second, "it seems like more of a torture device than it does a feminine hygiene product."

Running a cold hand through her blonde hair, the girl continued to laugh at the older man in front of her, extending her arm so that she could briskly swipe the box of tampons out of her father's tight grip.

"Trust me, dad. It most definitely is a torture device."

The father and daughter continued to laugh at each other, a tight kind of humor filling the air as the two met eyes. Tightening the grip he had on his gun, the father flashes a quick smile at his daughter, tight and neglecting to show his teeth.

"Well, now that we got that over and done with, might as well take a closer look at this place huh?" He kicked a loose can by his foot, "Let's split up. Anything you see that you want, just take it. It's yours."

"Isn't that considered stealing?"

"Not when the person you're stealing it from is dead."

Nodding at her father's words, Milah began tucking the product she had in her hands safely into her rucksack, trading it for the usual weapon, her knife. When her eyes leveled once more, she met those of her father's, his light brown eyes watching and judging her every move. Giving him one last nod, she began her small adventure into the depths of the abandoned store, keeping her footsteps light and artful as she walked. Broken bits of glass and random empty jars lie scattered around the tiled flooring, crunching underneath Milah's heavy boots as she peered through the hazy lighting of evening that cracked against the broken windows. Tightening the grip she had on her knife, she walked up to a seemingly stable enough rack of miscellaneous objects ranging from baby food to jewelry to odd colored clothing. Furrowing her eyebrows, she scans the items among the shelves, letting her free hand rifle through the abandoned objects.

"Got anything?" Her dad shouted from somewhere to the left of Milah, the sound of objects being dropped on the floor absentmindedly following after his words.

Jeans? Socks? Baby formula? Pacifiers? Pregnancy water? Lemonade mix? This wasn't some random shelving. People had lived here, and they had specifically made this shelf for whoever needed it.

"Not really," she answered, raising her voice, "it looks like whoever used to live here was pregnant."

Nothing but silence responded to her words, making an unsettling amount of anxiety settle in her stomach. Grabbing a few of the pregnancy water bottles and an aid kit, the young girl gave up on her search for anything useful, instead focusing on the meager amount of jewelry that laid sprawled out on the tile flooring. Kneeling, Milah carefully used her fingers to push away the small fragments of glass that surrounded the treasure that had caught the young girl's eye. It wasn't much. Just a simple gold chain woven around tightly into two different sections. One section held a single golden star, as the other held a small golden circle, engraved with wording on the back.