dromomania |carl grimes|

4

CLEAN

I lose my clothes and hop into the shower. Carl lied, this isn't a difficult shower. I haven't showered for ages, not a real shower at least. I bathed in lakes and where I could. The hot water ran down my body. Bruises and cuts ran all over my body. I had tattoos on my body as well, obviously post-apocalyptic.

The camp where I met Elowen had several artists and I figured why the fuck not. I had a mouse on my right bicep and a moon on my left wrist. My most recent was a universe on my right rib. We had a running joke that dead people didn't like skin with ink.

There was cinnamon-scented body wash and hair care stuff. It was meant for curly hair, meaning Carl's. I wash my body and the smell of cinnamon rises in the air, the humidity catching the scent.

I fish a razor out of my bag, shaving my legs, armpits, and intimate areas. I was done in less than 8 minutes, I felt bad using their hot water. My father use to grab me by my hair and pull me out of the shower if he thought I was taking too long. I learned to shower, eat, and sleep fast.

I grab the towel and dry myself off quickly, my wet hair clung to my back and my shoulders. I look so young for being almost 20, so underweight, my skin was critically pale.

I wanted to cry, I don't look healthy by any means. I get dressed pulling a cropped black tank top over my head and some black leggings on. "Alora?" A loud knock erupts, causing me to flinch. I hate loud noises.

I cling to the wall of the bathroom, waiting for them to either say something or leave.

"Alora, I want you to meet Michonne and Judith."

I caught my breath and grasped the situation. They aren't gonna hurt me, I need to understand that.

I try to dry my hair the best I can before meeting someone new. I'm not sure what happened to Lori, or who Judith is. I have naturally wavy hair so regardless of what I do especially with this humidity I deal with hair that is puffy and untamable.

I step outside the bathroom, letting the humidity fan out behind me.

A black woman stood in the living room, looking me up and down. I suddenly felt so small. She had long braids and a grey sleeveless shirt with blue jeans.

She didn't smile, she didn't have any positive or negative reaction to me, I don't know how to take that.

"Mich, this is Alora. I knew her from before." I tried to force a toothless smile.

"Nice to meet you, Alora."

She didn't have any malice in her voice, she seemed like a strict parent. Strict but caring, a trait that was so far out of reach for any parental figure in my life. Carl rounded the corner, looking me up and down and smiling, "Alora, this is Judith. My sister."

I felt like I'd been hit by a wave. Where did Lori go, Judith doesn't look too much like Rick.

I glanced outside to see the sun had set. I gave Judith a tired smile, she seemed excited like she wanted to hang out with me. She couldn't have been older than 6, but she looked exhausted, hence why Carl was carrying her.

Carl looked much older than I remember possibly early 20s. "Are you hungry?" Michonne asks me. I nod, "A bit."

Carl disappeared to put Judith to bed and Michonne invited me to the kitchen to eat something.

"How long have you been without a group?" Michonne asks.

I run my bottom lip over my teeth, "About 3 hours, my best friend was bitten."

She frowns and sets a plate of leftover pasta out in front of me. I use to be a picky eater but in this day and age, it's impossible. I still have my dietary issues but I've learned that the bloating is worth eating.

"Thank you."

She pulled up a chair next to me, "How'd you know Rick?"

I chuckle and shake my head, "Rick was an officer in my county, he came to my school sometimes."

She nods, "He's a good man."

I finish up the brief conversation with Michonne and Carl leads me to my room. "My room is right next door if you need anything."

"Thanks, I'm good."

I climb into a real bed, one that isn't a deflated air mattress in the back of my Honda.

I heard the door lock on the outside, it troubled me that they don't trust me but in honesty, I don't trust them.

I finally fall asleep drifting into comfort. I don't like losing consciousness around virtual strangers.

"Alora, where the fuck is your mother!"

I cock my head to the side, "I don't know, she hasn't told me."

My father was mere inches from my face, screaming. "You're useless you know that. You can't handle loud noises or you'll cry because you're a huge crybaby. That's why you let Elowen get bit. You hid from noise and she got bit and fucking died and it was your fault."

I could hear pounding at the door and groans of the dead. The door fell flat as there was no barrier to save 7-year-old me. Dead people flooded the house, breaking through every obstacle. I had no weapons, I couldn't move around them there were so many.

They walked right past my father, a man with a bad heart and a bad brain no wonder no dead would want him.

A dead woman grabbed my foot and yanked me to the ground, tearing through my pajama pants. Her skin was grey and peeling but she looked familiar. It was Elowen, a dead fucking Elowen. Before her teeth could pierce my skin it went white.

I woke up. I shrieked at the sight of someone in the room with me, reaching for the weapon that was nowhere near me.

"Alora, hey it's me," It was Carl.

I'm not used to being around others with my nightmares. He sat on the bottom of the bed and looked up at me while carrying a candle in his right hand.

"You have a nightmare?" He asks, gently.

"Yeah, I did. You can leave now, I'm fine." My voice comes off harsh, I didn't mean for it to but it did.

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay, I'm glad you're safe now Alora." He tapped the bed and left without saying another word.