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𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖾𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 ━━━━━━━━━━━━━ losing the last piece. ╱ season four, episode sixteen. TW: DESCRIPTION OF SEXUAL HARASSMENT, READ WITH CAUTION
FRANKIE FEARED the path of humanity in a world like this. There was an uneasiness that filled her chest when thinking of the future. People and who they once were slowly slipping away with each day that passes. Different aspects of who they were, get ripped away with each moment they're out in the world surviving. Who Frankie is now can attest to that. She was no longer that snarky sixteen-year-old that dreamed bigger than what her world was able to give her. Frankie was now a woman with hands dyed a deep crimson with every person she had taken from the world. And as time passed, her skin was only getting bloodier. She didn't know how much of this she could truly sit through.
The thought of the darkness consuming her was terrifying. She feared being a person that was truly lost in it all. She hated the thought of changing even more, and losing the last pieces of herself to the plague that was the world that surrounded her. Frankie thought she would always put people's lives first, and that she could easily save someone from a nasty fate. But today, she proved herself wrong. Ducking behind a tree as a man gets ripped apart as walkers hounded him, was something that changed her perspective.
She knew that even if she tried, there was no way that Rick would let her by, even if he fought Carl as he tried to rip himself free. When Frankie first heard the screams, the begging, she didn't hesitate to run after Carl who was sprinting as soon as the pleads bled into the morning air. She intended to make sure Carl didn't get hurt, but at the same time, something was bubbling in her stomach that screamed to save the person in trouble.
She could hear the panic flood from the people behind her, calling for Carl and her to come back and wait. But with the adrenaline rushing through her body, she didn't bother to stop running. Her mind and thoughts had solidified, there was no way she was stopping until there was no other option.
But Carl was quickly grabbed by Rick and they all came to the edge of a clearing, watching a man get hounded by a group of walkers. Frankie moved to get her gun, but Gabi suddenly appeared next to her, putting her hand on top of Frankie's, her face solemn. When noticing the look, the girl let out a rough sigh, adverting her eyes, refusing to look at the stranger who was now screaming in excruciating pain as the dead ripped him apart.
Frankie was sick of watching moments like that happen time and time again. She was tired of having to see such death. She ached for time to stop, for things to go back to the way it once was. Where people didn't have to die at the drop of a hat, where the dead weren't hiding behind every corner, just waiting to sink their teeth into an unsuspecting victim.
Even hours after, Frankie was still feeling the sunken aftermath that lay heavily on her chest. The images of the stranger haunted her mind. She wanted to talk to people about it, but she knew she would just receive a half-minded answer with something along the lines of "it's just how it's gotta be". She was sick of getting that answer again and again, it exhausted her that people just shrugged it off, as if people dying due to their hands wasn't affecting them.
