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𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐫𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐳𝐞
𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚕𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚗
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H E R
"He's still not up?" Michonne appeared in the archway of the kitchen in that silent way of hers.
I glanced out the window above the sink, through the frilly hems of the curtains I could just make out the sun appearing through the braches of trees. It had cleared up since the night before's rainstorm, leaving the sky all different shades of pink, cream, and tangerine. It was a bit after dawn and everyone else in the house was up and about. Except Carl.
"Guess not." I replied.
"Well, that's good. He hasn't slept much in the past few weeks. I didn't think he'd ever sleep again after what happened the other night." Michonne crossed through the kitchen, opening her pack on top of the island, searching through it before producing a jar of peanut butter. "And he's a growing boy. Let him sleep as late as he wants."
"Yeah." I agreed, then I randomly added: "This is so crazy."
"What is?"
"Us all being together again. I never thought it would happen."
Michonne nodded, scooping some peanut butter out with finger. "What happened with you? After the prison? How'd you find your way back to us?"
I shrugged. "I got knocked out." Didn't say by who. "When I came to, it was night, and everyone was gone. The whole place was smoldering and the dead were everywhere. So, I just left."
"All by yourself?"
"Yeah." I couldn't help the tense that overtook my body at just the memory of it all. "I just kinda meandered around. I felt like I was waiting for something. Waiting to live. Waiting to die. I don't know. And I was in this house when that group came in, I was going to just move along, but Daryl was with them. I followed them for maybe a week, or two, I don't know. I didn't keep track. I thought they were all shady but I knew if Daryl was there, that there was some hope, at least."
