Chapter 3
There ain't much talkin' as we ride back to the prison on our horses. Daryl leads the pack, Michonne at his side, and Rick and I ride side by side behind them. It's gettin' dark and it's gettin' cold, and I ain't got a proper coat really, so I'm tryin' to hide how bad I'm shiverin'. I only got on two sweaters layers over each other- basically all the warm clothes I got ta' my name- so it's pretty bad.
A breeze rolls through and rustles the dead leaves on the ground quietly. I shiver somethin' fierce, but I try with all my might ta' hide it, grippin' my reins tighter and keepin' my eyes dead ahead. I feel eyes on my though, and when I sneak a glance sideways, Rick is eyein' me.
"Cold?" he asks. I shake my head and put on a weak smile.
"No," I say confidently. I know I ain't foolin' nobody though, and not a beat later does Rick calls fer everyone ta' slow up.
Michonne and Daryl watch Rick curiously as he hops down off his horse and slides off his coat. He throws it over my horses back and looks at me. I notice that his eyes are bright blue.
"I ain't puttin' that on," I say evenly, lookin' him up and down. "It's yours. If I wear it, you'll freeze ta' death." I cock an eyebrow at Rick insistently, but he ain't swayed. He cocks one right back and gets back on his horse. We start movin' again.
"I'll be fine. I can't let a lady freeze ta' death when I have a perfectly good coat," Rick argues, smilin' at me.
"If it'll help you sleep tonight, I'll putcha' coat on," I say, finally givin' in, but only 'cause I'm cold as hell. I slide the thing on quickly, nearly mewlin' in content when I find that it's still warm from Rick wearin' it. I already feel warmer.
"Stubborn," Daryl laughs from in front of us. I think I hear Michonne chuckle to herself as well.
"Which one of us?" Rick asks, grinnin'.
"Both a' ya'," Daryl mutters. Michonne and Daryl bust into laughter, and Rick and I kinda exchange a sheepish grin.
These people ain't so bad, I decide.
{~~~}
The prison is a typical prison. Grey concrete watchtowers, razor wire fences, a prison yard, offices, and cellblocks. The community has converted everything into somethin' new though. The watchtowers still serve the same purpose, but the people no longer watch fer people escapin'- they watch fer walkers tryin' ta' come in. The fences have quite a few walkers crowdin' up against 'em, but they've even thought of a way ta' control that. People dot the fences from the inside and stab at walkers with pipes and knives, which is the best they can probably do, given the lack a' supplies. The prison yard has been converted into a common area fer everyone ta' eat and gather in. The cellblocks are being put ta' use as housing, and a couples and families have converted the offices into bedroom fer privacy.
It ain't a bad setup, if ya' ask me. They got protection, they got housing, they got crops planted, and they got animals. That's about as good as it gets.
There're a couple people watin' ta' meet us at the gates. A dark-haired, lanky fourteen-year-old that's wearin' a sheriff's hat and holdin' a baby girl stands off ta' one side, a Santa Claus look-alike stands next ta' him, supported by a cane. Next ta' him is a squatty lookin' man with black hair and dark skin. Upon closer inspection, he seems ta' be Indian, meanin' the ones from Asia.
The lanky kid grins when Rick slides off his horse, comin' over quickly. Rick grins back and gives the kid a squeeze, snatchin' the hat off his head and rufflin' his hair before kissin' him and the baby on the head. The little girl gurgles happily and grins toothlessly. She's a cute little thing, all bundled in a coat and such, little boots on her feet and everything. They must be Rick's kids. I wonder where his wife is...
I don't go unnoticed fer long. The old man turns ta' me and appraises me cautiously. The squatty man does the same, and I think I even see the kid hold the baby in his arms just a little tighter. I don't blame none of 'em- they ain't ever met me.
"This is Scarlett Bradford. We found her in town." Rick turns to me. "Scarlett, this is Hershel Greene."
"Nice ta' meetcha', Mr. Greene," I say politely, offerin' a hand fer him ta' shake.
"Please, call me Hershel," he says, shakin' my offer hand firmly and givin' me a short smile.
Rick gestures to the squatty Indian man. "This is Dr. Caleb Subramanian. We just call him Dr. S." He turns to Dr. S. and gestures ta' me. "Scarlett was a nurse and she has some medical supplies on her. I was thinkin' she could help you out."
"That would be great," Dr. S beams, stickin' out a hand. "It'll be nice to have some help. I think I'm a good doctor, but my bedside manner is lacking. And please, Caleb is fine."
"Well mine is just fine. I look forward ta' workin' with ya'," I say, and I mean it. Caleb seems nice.
"And this is my son, Carl, and my daughter, Judith." Rick gestures to the boy and the baby in turn, and I can tell that he's proud a' both of 'em. Carl gives me a smile and the Judith looks me over pensively. I make a stupid face and cross my eyes at her, and this sways her into laughin' and smilin'. I make another one and Judith claps her little hands, now in stitches.
"Little Ass-kicker likes ya'," Daryl laughs as he fiddles with some things on the horses.
"Little Ass-kicker?" I ask. Michonne rolls her eyes, but it's done almost affectionately.
"That's Daryl's special name fer Judith." Daryl grins cheekily behind her, and I laugh.
"I thank God every day that you don't have children, Daryl," Hershel chimes in wearily. He's smilin' though, and this makes all of us laugh.
"He'd probably name his first born Cool Mo Dee or soemthin' like that," Michonne sighs. She and Daryl start bickerin', and that makes me smile.
"I'd wish they'd just kiss already," Carl mutters under his breath.
{~~~}
I meet a ton more people at dinner. There's Maggie and Beth (Hershel's daughters), Glenn (Maggie's husband), Tyreese and his girlfriend Karen, Beth's little boyfriend Zach, Carol, and a quite a few more. They're all pretty sweet people, and they welcomed me with open arms. Michonne and I ended up talkin' the most though, and I found out a little while ago that I'll be sharin' a cell with her. She keeps her space neat and I like her, so I don't think we'll be havin' any problems.
I found out somethin' sad at dinner though. Rick's wife is dead. I didn't even think about that bein' a possibility and just asked Rick when I was gonna meet his wife once I notice his wedding band. I felt so stupid when he ducked his head and said that his wife had died given birth ta' Judith. He told me not ta' feel bad when I started apologizin', all flustered and stutterin' like a fool, but I still feel awful about it.
Stop thinkin' and just take a shower, I tell myself.
So yeah. They have some actual showers here. The water isn't steaming hot or anything, but when youya' haven't taken a decent shower or bath with soap in over a year, you'll take whatever I ya' can get. The last time I bathed, it was in a creek with half a bar a' soap. It wasn't nothin' luxurious since it was colder than Jack Frost's nipples, which made me bathe fast. I ain't been truly clean in forever.
Michonne gave me a bar a' soap that I'm supposed ta' keep just fer myself, and a towel and a couple washcloths too. I'm alone in the bathroom, fer which I'm glad.
I strip, takin' my time since I ain't in a hurry. I unbraid my hair run a brush through it. I'm about ta' hop in the stall when I catch my reflection in a full-length mirror next ta' the stall.
Several things catch my attention, the first bein' how rough I look. My hair's filthy, nearly brown when it should be a dirty blonde color. It normally falls down to my wait in waves, but it's so dirty that it's almost straight, only a little wavy right at the ends. There's dirt on my face and a little cut right above my eye from where I get nicked by a branch ridin' the other day, and what's worse, I can see my ribs and hipbones. I'm naturally thin anyway- built like a boy more than anythin', really- but I ain't never been this thin in my life. I'm not skeletal, but I sure ain't healthy either. A couple more solid meals would do me some good.
I cringe at my overall appearance and turn away from the mirror, ashamed that I met all those people lookin' like this.
A content little noise escapes my throat when the water hits my back. It's not hot, but it ain't cold either, and it feels great. I take my time washing, using the bottle of shampoo on the shower floor liberally and scrubbin' at my face with a washcloth until my skin is pink and smooth. Dirt and grime stain the water on the floor of the stall brown, and I make sure that I don't leave a mess behind before I shut the water off and step out. I feel like I just took a shower In God's own personal bathroom.
I throw on a sweatshirt and some sleep pants, feelin' like a whole new person now, and I plait my hair in pigtails that hang down my chest, the end of 'em drippin' a little. I even brush my teeth with the toothpaste and toothbrush I kept in my bag. I know it might be silly, but it's part a' stayin' healthy, and now that I'm around people, I don't wanna be unclean.
The door creaks open and a woman slips in, a towel and small bag under her arm. I don't recognize her, but we exchange smiles anyway. She starts takin' her clothes off without hesitation, so I don't think she would care if I stayed, but I decide ta' leave. I'm done here anyway, and I'm tired.
Michonne is in her bunk when I slip back into the cell. She ain't sleepin', but she starts changin' fer bed once I close out curtain behind me, offerin' me a hello as I settle my things back into my area of our dresser.
The two of us slip in bed about the same time and Michonne turns off the lantern when she sees me gettin' comfortable. The mattress on this bed isn't anything great, but it's still a mattress, and for the first time in what seems like an eternity, I don't have any worries when I nod off.
***
Author's Note-
Hello there! \(^-^)/
I love you, random citizen(s) for reading this far! What do ya'll think? I'd love to here from you, so comment! Vote!
-Love, Madison (evilqueen098)