Bad feelings are one part of what sucks about this world. Good feelings are the other. Because the good stuff is what can get taken from you, the rug that gets pulled out from under you. A warming feeling that, once it's gone, leaves you out in the...
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C A R L
"Can you open the window?" Megan's voice cuts through our ongoing silence.
I've been aimlessly staring at the comic in my hand as I dwell on our new reality.
My tongue itches with a snide remark on how the girl should just do it herself, although I'm a lot closer to the window.
I don't blame her for wanting it open. This heat wave hit us hard.
Over the top of my comic, I look at the girl on the other side of the room. She's clearly been trying to ignore the growing tension between us.
Before saying anything to her, I choose to acknowledge her efforts and just let it go. I fold the top corner of the page and stand up, taking a few steps toward the window.
A few days ago, we realized that the living room window is rusty and when it shuts all the way, it's extremely hard to get back open.
Luckily, Megan left a crack in it the last time she closed it. I stick my right hand under the window pane and push it up, letting it click into place. "Better?"
"Much." She says, slightly raising her eyebrows and forcefully raising the corners of her lips.
I huff, sitting back down and opening my comic, carefully adjusting myself so that I don't accidentally bump into the wall. The noise could and would attract walkers. Quite a few of them have been wandering throughout the neighborhood.
The increasing amount of stray walkers has raised our guard immensely. My mind is bombarded with intrusive thoughts of everyone back at the prison. These walkers have to be a pain for them. Being only twenty minutes away from here, some of these walkers have surely come across the others.
I can't help but wonder why there are so many.
I'm positive that these walkers would herd against the prison fence. Some might linger around the overcrowded fence for a little longer than others, but they'd all end up dead one way or another.
My heart nearly races as I'm almost certain that the walkers at the prison aren't even being maintained anymore.
Keeping my stare glued to the floor, I try not to think about why they aren't taking care of the walkers anymore. Maybe the dead were too much for them to handle. Something bad probably happened there that drew more toward this area. Maybe they just stopped killing them all together.
