𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄
...multiple...
MADALYN
With a pounding heart, Madalyn shot up in bed. Sweat caused her loose shirt to stick to her back. The nightmare was still fresh in her mind, making it feel as if she still had blood on her hands.
She swung her legs out from under her blanket and fumbled around in the dark for the switch to her lamp. When she finally found it, the room flooded in a yellow glow. Her eyes traveled down to her shaking hands, finding them clean. A sigh escaped her lips as she leaned forward and rested her head in her hands.
Two weeks had passed since the end of the war. Since the fall of Negan. Since she killed Dwight. Two weeks of rather consistent nightmares. Sleep still avoided her often, and she wondered if it would ever return to normal. The chances of that were slim. Was it karma? Perhaps. Trauma? Most certainly.
Madalyn leaned back and let her gaze move across the room. Back when Alexandria had been attacked, Negan had spared the Grimes (and Dixon) residence. Her room was untouched by the destruction. She was not ungrateful for that, but the small space brought forward memories that made her feel an immeasurable amount of grief. Grief for Carl.
She slid off her bed and pulled on a pair of socks. When her feet were covered, she grabbed the pocket knife from her bedside table and dropped it into the pocket of her pants. Just in case. Then she left her room.
The hallway was dark and quiet as she moved down it. Without meaning to, her eyes drifted to the door of what used to be Carl's room. The two of them had spent plenty of time in there, talking about nothing and everything, reading silly comic books. She hadn't found the courage to go in there since he died.
As she reached the stairs, the memory of her and Carl finding Jesus sat atop the stairs resurfaced. A sad smile found its way onto her face. She'd been so ecstatic when she found out about Rick and Michonne just moments later. Vindicated was probably a more suited word. She'd known all along.
The piece of wood with two blue handprints drew her attention next. One handprint was much smaller than the other. It belonged to none other than Judith Grimes. And the other belonged to her big brother. The brother who would never be able to watch her grow up.
Everywhere Madalyn looked, she saw Carl. No matter where, her brain somehow always conjured up a memory or significance to the boy she loved. It was a curse, yet also not.
YOU ARE READING
The Way the World is ¹ | the walking dead
Fanfiction"𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘧𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘥." It was a chant Madalyn Taylor told herself every day. Every day since the world ended. She didn't believe it most times, but if she said it enough times it had to come true at some point. Right? "𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦." ...