oh come on | twd

• Rational Emotions •

"She's gone?" Rick's voice cracked, as he ran a hand through his hair.

When Tyreese had made it indoors he was surprised to see he had successfully broke into the Anderson's house where Carl, Michonne, Deanna, Gabriel and the Anderson's had taken sanctuary in. Ron had stormed off as soon as the word 'Amelia' had left Tyreese's broken lips. Carl was deathly silent.

"I couldn't get to her..." Tyreese was ridden with guilt. "She saved me and I couldn't get to her."

Carl's eyes never left the floor as the tears welled up. He couldn't cry, now wasn't the time to. If he got himself killed for being emotional he knew Amelia would slaughter him from wherever she had made it to. But at the same time he didn't even feel as though he could function with the knowledge he had gained. She could be gone. He always thought she could beat anything because of how overly confident in herself she was. It was only the other night she had confided in him that she was scared for him and the others.

And now she was gone. Whether that was from existence completely or just for the time being he didn't know. Would she come back as a walker? His brain could only comprehend the words Tyreese had said.

'She couldn't of faught them off'.

He prayed she had managed to get away but from the mere description Tyreese had gave and just from looking outside he knew the odds were slim.

My foot smashed through the floor level window that allowed me to see the basement of the block of buildings near the pond. I remained laid on my stomach, hoping that no walkers saw me or heard the smash. Nothing. I spun around crouched down to look through the window. It was empty, but that didn't mean the rest of the building was. Ideally, I wanted to get near the jail cell, but I couldn't stay outside any longer so I had to settle with what I could get.

I swiped the blade of my knife through the pane to snap off any loose shards and slid through. I landed on the floor with a gentle thud and held my breath. It was still empty thankfully, and I couldn't hear anything upstairs but I stayed silent anyways. I crept over the smashed glass, trying my best to avoid the shards as I heard a quiet crunch from below me. I allowed myself to sit below the window, away from view and facing the stairs. I didn't have the energy to barricade the door, and frankly, I had the unsettling thought that if I was to barricade it, it could potentially stop someone else from escaping death.

I checked my gun; there were no bullets left. I sat it down beside me, listening to the scuffles of feet above me. The groans of the dead as they walked past the window, oblivious to my existence, was oddly soothing. I was safe for now. I just had to stay quiet.

As I sat there, my thoughts drifted to the boy in the sheriff's hat I had grown close to. Was he safe? I hoped so; I couldn't even bring myself to think of how I'd react if he wasn't. My thoughts were brought to each person I had met. Daryl, Abraham, Sasha and Glenn still hadn't returned, and now they wouldn't have anything to return to. Maggie, if not dead, would become a widow. Carl, if not dead, had the possibility of being an orphan. Judith could possibly be an only child plus an orphan. The list was endless with possibilities on things I felt sick thinking about.

Eugene would die a helpless nerd, and that fact would probably never change even if he did survive this. And as much as I disliked Gabriel, I hoped he made it through this. I still have a lot I would like to say to him. I doubted he'd step up after his whole drama about locking the doors. I wanted to pity him for how he survived the start of it all, locking out his friends to preserve himself out of fear. The other part of me dreaded to think that part of him was still alive and could cost someone else their lives.

The pain in my leg was becoming more evident the longer I sat in silence. I knew it was down to me falling from the house. I pulled my pant leg up to try and see, and cringed at the sight of my leg. A harsh bruise had risen from my ankle up my shin. It wasn't broken; I wouldn't of made it this far, even with the adrenaline.