Future Ghosts • TWD

31. Executioner.

The sun started to go down and everyone gathered in the house. Rosie was told to wait in the other room with Carl, which really sucked because Rosie did not want to talk to Carl at all and Carl made it very clear that he didn't want to talk to Rosie.

As the two walked into the house, reluctantly side by side, they paused to look at everyone gathered in the living room. Looking at the expressions on their faces, Rosie could already guess what the outcome would be. They were going to kill Randall.

When Rosie walked past Daryl, she made eye contact with him, glaring and hoping that it would send the message of I really don't want you to kill Randall. Daryl just looked away, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. Next, Rosie looked at Dale. He had a sad and concerned expression on his face. He could probably guess what the verdict would be too.

The moment they got into the bedroom, Carl crossed his arms and sat down on the bed, pouting. Apparently, he wanted to go listen to the conversation. Rosie didn't see why he was so mad about it, because they could still hear everyone. Their voices were a bit muffled by the walls, but it was not like they were being particularly quiet.

Rosie stayed by the door, sliding down against the wall to sit and listen. She looked at her boots as she listened to them argue, remembering that Randall liked the boots.

"Do you think they should kill him?" Carl suddenly asked. Rosie looked up at him, her eyebrows raised. She was surprised he suddenly wanted to talk to her again. Maybe he got over whatever he was mad at her for.

"No," Rosie answered, picking at the seam on the side of her pants.

"Why? He's bad," Carl said, furrowing his eyebrows at Rosie.

"I've been bad. Should they kill me?" Rosie asked, glaring at Carl.

He rolled his eyes. "That's not the same. He's bad in a different way."

"Doesn't mean he should just die."

"Merle killed your dad because he was a bad person, and now you're better off," Carl said, raising his eyebrows. Rosie's eyes widened as her eyebrows furrowed. She bit down hard on her lip, trying to keep herself calm. "What?" Carl asked, "It's true."

How does he know Merle killed Daddy? Why does he think I'm better off without my dad? Why does everyone think that? I know he wasn't the best, but that doesn't mean it's good that he's dead. He was my dad.

"I heard my mom and dad talking about it after you got back from Atlanta. Mom said he was a bad dad and Dad said that Merle killed him. And now you're better off. Randall has to die, so we'll be better off," Carl reasoned.

Stupid Lori. Stupid Rick. Pussy ass cop.

"Leave me alone," Rosie said, pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them.

"It's true."

Feeling the self-control drain from her body with every word Carl said, Rosie stood up and left the room. She didn't care if they'd yell at her. It was better than punching Carl for the third time. She went into the dining room, taking a seat at the table and putting her head in her arms. The adults' voices were much more clear now, not having the closed doors muffling their words.

"You once said that we don't kill the living," Dale was saying.

"Well, that was before the living tried to kill us," Rick responded, his voice more gruff and more quiet than Dale's.

"But don't you see? If we do this, the people that we were- the world that we knew is dead! And this new world is ugly! It's... harsh! It's- it's survival of the fittest! And that's a world I don't wanna live in," Dale shouted. Rosie scooted her chair back, trying to see into the room, but it was no use. The house wasn't laid out that way. So she stood up and neared the doorway, peaking around it. "And I don't believe that any of you do. Rosie doesn't! Think about the message you're sending her and Carl!"