"𝐜𝐨𝐰𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞„

thirty seven, 𝗐𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝖾

Jane could never recall if she had grown up with religious parents. Carol had her morals and her rules, but Jane couldn't remember If her set were particularly influenced by god. She guessed not, then.
Really, she'd never really sat and thought about religion, or even tried to relate it back to herself.

Today, right now, was the first time she considered it. It was also the first time she had prayed.
With her hands glued to the wheel, and her foot slammed to the pedal, she prayed.

She prayed that Carl was okay. She prayed that Alexandria was fine. She prayed and prayed over and over, and though she thought it would, she was given no comfort in the words that left her mouth. She did not feel as if god would help her, if he was even real - but it was worth a shot. Hell, it was worth every shot.

She had been driving for hours now, every tire screech staining her ears. She couldn't be too far from the saviours now. Surely she was on their tail, though she had no walkie to confirm her hopes. She'd left right after they had, or, if she was lucky - right before.

It was all a race, a stomach twisting contest that Negan didn't even know he was a part of. He couldn't know, could he? Her mind darted from point to point trying to place something: something that would give her at least a little security. Though, broadening past thousands of different topics, they always landed back on Carl and that did not lull her into relief.

The car made a strange clicking sound, and, for the first time in three hours, she looked down. Focusing on the stereo, she noticed the screen had lit up with a 'play/pause' button, and being curious, she pressed play.

The songs on the burned cd seemed to fade seamlessly into one another; first it was west end girls, then when you sleep, then, when the sun hits. How long it had been stashed in there, she couldn't know, yet, she wanted to so badly. Had it been a gift? She was now very aware that she was listening to a dead person's music in a dead person's car, sitting in the spot that they probably did for most of their lives.

She hated coming to grips with the apocalypse, but this one cd just seemed to crawl up into her subconscious and nestle there.
One thing was clear: she was not going to let any of Carl's things be known as just that. Useless junk that a dead person had just left behind.

Oh god, he was right. He was so, so right and she shouldn't have gone. She shouldn't have even thought of going, let alone actually go through with it. Now look, this. This is what happens.

"Fuck!" She shouted, slamming her hands on the wheel. There was no physical way to get her there faster than she was already going, and it fucking sucked.

The sky had turned from a light grey to an almost black, though, Jane's watch read only 7:40pm. Autumn must be approaching, and that meant cold breath and dark nights. She used to love it all - Halloween, the oranges and reds of the trees. The seasonal drinks. Cozy sweaters.

Now, she didn't love anything as much as she loved Carl grimes, neither did she care for something as artificial as seasonal buzz. She knew she didn't deserve him, but she hoped the world would not take him away for something she did or didn't do. Could some force take him because of her own sin?

God. Listen to how stupid you sound - there is no sin anymore. The world is gone.
She scoffed at herself, glancing down at her whitened knuckles.

Another song rolled on, and this time, she felt icicles freezing and connecting down her spine. It was one of Carl's favourite songs, recognisable by it's poem like monologue that faded into a ukulele tune. It spoke of death, and life, and everything Jane did not want to think about right now. But most of all, it spoke of Carl.

Jane never really liked the song, it was too bland to her. She didn't really like the man's voice, either. But she liked that Carl liked it. She felt proud that Carl liked it. Now, at the bottom of everything, she hated that. She loathed it for reminding her of him, she hated it for still existing whilst he was in danger. It sang it's stupid, happy sounds and she drove herself crazy with this love that came unplaced.