Sage ➸ Carl Grimes

13 ➸ the raw truth

{ Little Do You Know by Alex & Sierra }

Carl

I held two ropes, each dragging someone; something behind me as I walked. Many bodies shuffled beside me, but they were dead. I blended into the crowd that I so dearly hated, and I could not appear distressed. Or I would be killed. But not that it mattered.

I followed the herd as we walked through the neighborhood. I had dead shoulders bumping into me, having no control of where their legs would take them. I ignored the aloofness.

A sea of walkers were roaming the neighborhood. Far too many for my two, weak hands to handle themselves.

I cut the mouths and arms free of two walkers. Tying ropes around their necks and pulling them with me, they were useless. Had no way of biting, scratching, or harming me. With two dead people at my fingertips, I blended into the herd of zombies that were migrating down the neighborhood. They did not detect me, notice me, want me. An old friend taught me the techniques of invisibility.

Michonne, I thought sadly. Her name was Michonne, and you miss her.

Michonne and I had a strong bond, one that I held no intentions of losing. She could never take the place of my mom, Lori; but she at least tried.

And just like everyone else in my family; her death hurt.

It was in my loneliest moments that I thought of her. I thought of her dreadlocks. I thought of her strong, bold, chocolate brown eyes. I thought of her bright smile that she managed to wear, to ease my nerves. I thought of her katana, and how she would push the limits in its use to protect us.

I didn't realize I was staring down at my feet as I walked. I heard an odd gurgle noise to my right, and so I lifted my head and met yellow, sad eyes.

Through the pack of walkers I walked with, one single zombie noticed I was human, and not dead. The walker had batty hair and yellow teeth. She growled something intimidating to me, but continued to limp on her right leg.

They're so stupid, I realized. These pack of walkers are hitting you by the shoulders, yet they don't know you aren't one of them. You hold good intentions in this bad world; and the zombies only have half the brain to see that.

I stared at the walker, narrowing my eyes. I was looking at death, and what a pretty sight she must have been.

I looked away from the walker, and scanned where I stood.

The herd of zombies was enveloping me into the center. We all walked in silence, besides their gurgles. Their feet shuffled, and they walked an aimless journey to find flesh to feast on.

You're walking along the walkers. You're blending in. You aren't dead like they are, but why do you feel dead?

I breathed in the thick, Georgia air, tugging the ropes to keep the walkers behind me along. They hardly tripped over their own, dainty shoes. The two zombies' mouths were cut open, and the red goop was raw. Their arms were slain from the elbow down, and all they were left to do was follow at my request and keep me hidden.

Do you look that dead? I wondered sadly. Are you so utterly miserable in your own body, that the walkers mistaken you for one of their own? Does this make you any better?

There was this burning anger in my chest, but I wasn't sure if I was angry.

Sage was, and I wish I could understand her and I. We both don't know who we are as individuals, and as a duo. Sage was a stranger to me. All I knew was her name, and how pretty she was. Her lips told stories her eyes wouldn't, and she let me explore only so much of them.