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𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗇𝗂𝗇𝖾 ━━━━━━━━━━━━━ how can we come back. ╱ season four, episode sixteen.
EVEN AS THE MORNING sun rose over the trees, nothing deterred Frankie as she sat quietly to herself, looking down at what was left of her old self. Her thumb rubbed lightly against the matted faux fur of her coat, as she tried to piece together her scattered mind. Nothing felt quite the same, after she watched the men die, something in her shifted. Watching the life drain from their faces, made nothing but numbness bleed onto her features.
She ached to feel numb, to just ignore the rush of her adrenaline that never seemed to leave her body. Even after the darkness of the night faded into the colorful sunrise, nothing could stop the painful trepidation that still racked through Frankie's body. She was waiting for something to happen, she didn't know what would come of this day, but she knew it would be nothing good.
She could hear shuffling and hushed speaking behind her, but she didn't bother to even look back. It didn't matter, she had no words to say. She knew people were looking back at her, she could feel their looming eyes. But Frankie didn't feel like meeting their gazes, it would open a conversation she didn't know if she was ready to have.
The girl wanted to bury her feelings along with her coat, but she knew the people around her wouldn't let that slide. They would eventually make her open the wounds she was desperately trying to forget about. Her eyes would occasionally wander over to the dead body that lay a mere four feet from her.
There was an aspect of uncomfortableness that flowed through her when gazing toward the dead man, just glancing at him would bring flashbacks of last night. She could still feel the hands crawling all over her, she could feel the tight grip, and the bruises that they left on her pale skin. Every time she remembered it, she shifted in her spot, cringing at the way her body recoiled from their invisible touch.
Her heart ached significantly as the feeling of guilt racked over her body, she refused to look at them partly because she felt like this whole night was all her fault, the pain that had been embedded in people's hearts was because of her. She was the reason Carl got attacked, that a knife was held up to his throat. She could've run, left Sydney and Gabi to stay with the others, she could've gone on her own, leading those men to another state. But she was a coward and feared the crippling feeling of loneliness and stayed put. She was leading those sick men straight to them.
Her thoughts were immediately ripped away from her when she heard the soft moan seep into the morning air. Snapping her head to the sounds, she was met with the sight of Randy staring at her with glazed-over milky-white eyes. He was no longer alive, just yet another reanimated corpse that was bound to stumble around the earth. Frankie couldn't let him have that.
