oh come on | twd

• Not My Scene •

"Carl, I don't think this is a good idea," I muttered quietly as we both followed behind Ron, a teenage boy that was way too friendly for my liking.

"We don't have a choice, and you never know, they might be cool," Carl replied and I sighed as Ron opened the door to see two other teenagers in the room.

A brown haired girl sat on the bed silently, a comic in hand, and either didn't notice our arrival or simply didn't care. Her hair was long, and covered part of her face but I could tell she was pretty. Sat on the floor was a boy, he had black hair that wasn't exactly short but not long either. He looked up at us as we walked in and smiled.

"Carl, this is Mikey and Enid, guys this is Carl and Amelia."

Mikey waved at us, and Enid muttered a 'hi' but quickly went back to her comic. The boys talked for a while, bombarding Carl with stories of their Alexandrian lives and what they do in their spare time. My eyes however stayed glued to Enid, who looked majorly pissed off as she read her comic. I wondered if she was even reading it since her eyes were glued to the same spot, more so glaring at the pages.

She got up abruptly and left, leaving her comic open on the bed. Ron stopped talking as she brushed past him. Ron looked back at me for a moment before quickly looking to Carl.

"She came here eight months ago, but she barely speaks. Don't take it to heart," he reassured, looking back at me briefly before leading us out of the room.

The brief introductions were exactly what they were. Brief. Everyone would rather delve into the community they'd created and prod at what we'd been through. From what I'd been told, Alexandria had been up since the start, meaning a lot of the people here had never seen nor killed a walker.

To me, that seemed like a disaster waiting to happen. If they didn't freeze up from the shock of seeing one, then they'd die from the pure lack of skill to kill one. Of course, it didn't take much to kill a walker, but with no knowledge on how to even handle a weapon or where to stab, their death would be slow.

"So, you two know each other well? Me and Mikey are really close so it'd be cool if we could all be like best friends," Ron spoke with clear excitement in his voice that he tried to hide with a cool demeanour.

I look at Carl, who looked at me. His eyes seemed to analyse mine, internally asking me if I was going to answer for once. Of course that wasn't going to happen, so Carl looked back to Ron.

"We've been friends for a while, yeah, and we've had to survive together so there's a lot of trust," Carl looked back at me and for once I couldn't maintain eye contact.

Friends. The boy who I used to tell to shut up and had ultimately betrayed was calling me his friend. Did he mean it? Or did Carol talk to him too about looking innocent? And why did he say there's a lot of trust? I had stole from them and lied about the type of person my dad was, and Carl was trying to tell them he trusts me?

I gritted my teeth, staring at Ron's reaction which seemed somewhat satisfied with Carl's answer. Was everyone at Alexandria this nosey or just the majority?

"I'm going for a walk," I gritted out, quickly leaving before I could hear anything they had to say.

I heard fast footsteps behind me, and spun, fist raised on instinct. I stopped, seeing Carl behind me, and released the breath I hadn't noticed I'd held.

"It's just me," he reassured, placing his hand over my fist to lower it gently.

I froze for a second, before pulling my hand back quickly and turning back around. My footsteps were fast, as was my heartbeat but I didn't bother to let myself rest. I felt too clean and everything was too tidy. The people, the streets, the houses. It was too perfect.