[ 018 ] warmth

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018: warmth





"We look not at what can be seen, but we look at what cannot be seen. For what can be seen is temporary. But what cannot be seen is eternal. For we know that if the earthly tent we in is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens,"

There was a sniffle from next to her. The sun was hot and it was beating against the backs, but they stayed, in their position, heads hung low while Father Gabriel read from the Bible. Hands clasped together in prayer, as if they all came from the same faith. It didn't really matter what they all believed in. Mourning was mourning. It didn't matter where it came from, or where you sent it off to. It was a space between all of them, it filled up their rib cages, and turned their blood curdled and black. It was as though everyone was holding their breath until the last touch of dirt was pat into the earth, sealing Beth in her grave for the years to come. It was good that she got shot in the head—she wouldn't turn. It was peaceful and quick.

Another sniffle. Joey turned to watch Carl—she wasn't sure if the perspiration on her face was from sweat or tears. She didn't have anything to cry about—she didn't know Beth. But something about being surrounded by a group of people that did, made her chest burn a bit. She picked anxiously at the skin on her elbow. The reading ended. Maggie retreated to their campfire further in the woods, to sulk. She hadn't spoken to the group much, if at all. Joey didn't blame her. It was almost as if Joey was still mourning the death of her parents from nearly sixteen years before. She could hear Maggie's cries from a distance, but kept her place cemented on a tree trunk near another campfire. Their group was larger now—meaning they had to find more places to settle down, bigger places to settle down. Joey still felt like a stranger, though. Carl had come to sit next to her. For once, he didn't have Judith on his back—instead, Rick was cradling the sleeping baby against his shoulder. He looked particularly somber, too, and under all of it, angry.

Carl kept quiet, and didn't say anything to her. Joey didn't really think that was strange—there wasn't much to say between them. Hey, I still have the arrow you gave me in my backpack, despite the fact that I don't even have a bow to shoot it with. She didn't know what to do with herself in all the stillness, so she itched her neck and pulled at a strand of hair that she missed when braiding. There was a lot of dirt beneath her nails.

"Are you okay?" she finally asked him. The sun was setting and the crickets were beginning to chirp. It was then that he started crying. Short, ragged sobs that raked through his body with violent shudders. He didn't make much noise, however, but just kept sagging under this invisible weight and placing his head in his hands. They were far enough from everyone else where he wouldn't be worrying anyone too much. Joey didn't know what to do, so she just sat there and hung her head low, as if she were trying to work up tears herself. Nothing really came out, and she found herself sitting there, side-eyeing Carl as he wept on the damp tree trunk. Joey felt awkward and useless, but resulted in placing her shaky hand on his back in an attempt to comfort him. There was a gap in his cries before they were more muddled and breathy. Joey swallowed over her scratchy, sore throat, and stroked her thumb on the back of his shirt before retracting it away when he shifted under her touch. She had the urge to scoot further away from him, but stayed cemented in her spot. If he wanted to move away, he would. She could hear the water from a very small nearby creek. They had passed it before they set up camp and retracted only some clean water from it. Rosita taught Joey how to make and properly use the water filter that Eugene taught her to make. Joey wondered if Eugene's head was still dramatically damaged from Abraham's fist.

"You know, I saw a frog near that stream when we passed it. I saw it go into the water for a little while, too. It makes me wonder if there are any tadpoles in there," Carl looked up at her for a brief moment. Joey was even surprised at herself for being optimistic—even though it was only to try and make him feel better. "Well—it also makes me wonder if there is anything else living in there," there still was silence, except for the occasional sniffle from Carl as he tried to quell his somberness.

Malevolent.         The Walking DeadWhere stories live. Discover now