THE VOID

SEVEN: a new home

CAMILA DIDN'T KNOW how to feel anymore. Her body felt numb. As blood and dirt covered her tan skin she felt numb. Sometimes she'd forgotten she was even walking. Or where she was even walking to.

Her father was dead. Her mother was God knows where. And her brother was gone. He was probably back at camp. Leaving her to be stupid.

So stupid. Why was she so stupid?

Camila had a stick in her hand she found from the woods. She had sharpened it the best she could with absolutely nothing but mother nature.

Her stomach growled as the warm sun fell on her scalp. Sweat covered her forehead as her clothes that had holes in them began to stick to her skin.

She was exhausted. She hadn't slept since that night. Which was almost two days ago. She hadn't eaten for almost three days.

Her stomach was begging for nutrients, nutrients she could not provide it. Her skin was slowly beginning to burn from the sun, begging for shade which she could hot offer. Her dry mouth was begging for water, which she could not offer.

She couldn't even shed a tear about her father. She had to find shelter of some kind.

Camila eyed the ground. Hoping to find trash that could come to use. She found an old soda can that had dirt on it. Camila picked it up before smiling slightly.

Turning her hands into a scooper, she began to scoop dirt into the can. Maybe it could be used as a weapon? The girl had an image in mind as she filled the can with dirt. Her skin was already covered in it so why not add to it?

It was slightly heavier than before when she picked it up. She began wandering the forest some more, not knowing where she was even going.

She found leaves, sticks, plastic but it was nothing she was looking for. She found acorns and grabbed a couple of them. She didn't have lots of storage left as she only had her bare hands and the pockets of her pants.

The acorns slightly poked her skin through the cloth with each step she took. It was expected.

It didn't hurt though. It was as if her skin was made of jello.

The girl looked up when she found a man. He was snarling back at her, his eyes foggy with yellowness, his skin dirty, his clothes covered in holes. He was hanging from a tree. He had taken his own life.

Her grip tightened on the stick as her hand held the tip of it as she struggled to reach the man's height in the sky, or even kill it.

When that failed she grabbed a rock, throwing it at its head until its brains exploded. She than used the stick to bring the body down. She needed that rope.

The rope was about three feet in length. Once she got it she held the acorns onto the can before wrapping the rope around it to hold it steady. Once the acorns were stuck to the can she used to stick to try and cut the rope in a another peice.

When successful, she tied the rope around the cap of the soda can. She left some of the rope hanging off as she made knots to make a grip.

When her weapon was complete, she smiled. She held it by the rope, swinging it around. The heavy can and the acorns would be enough to distract walkers from eating her and even kill them. It'd help her from them getting so close. Almost like Michonne's knife but very different.

She swung it in her hand as she walked, her stick hanging out of her pocket. The can barley weighed a pound so it was easy to lodge around.

The girl needed to find shelter and something to eat. Also water.