Sage ➸ Carl Grimes

29 ➸ cherokee rose

FIREBREATHER by LAUREL

Listen to this song, it fits the creepy mood so well.

I WANT TO REMIND YOU ALL THAT THE DAWN LERNER IN THIS STORY IS FAR MORE VICIOUS AND CRUEL THAN THE ONE YOU WITNESSED ON THE SHOW. I HAVE REASONS BEHIND THIS; BUT PLEASE BE MINDFUL.

So much happens this chapter. Good luck keeping up. 

100 votes for an update;

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Mindful this chapter was well over 6,000 words. Have fun and grab some tissues, because shit goes down. 

SAGE

I twirled my knife in my hands.

My thumbs lingered down its blade, cautious where my touch brushed across to ensure no cuts punctured my skin. The left hand was gripping its carved handle, while the right hand. It reminded me of my capabilities while holding it between my fingers. It brought me relief as I sat there in silence, thinking.

Footsteps lingered into the cafeteria, ones that approached me with distaste.

Dawn turned a corner from the hallway and emerged towards me. I was sitting by one of the tables in the cafeteria, waiting for my Mom to approach me, expecting her wrath. Dawn had both hands clenched around her leather police belt, as she always would. Her face was unfriendly and her eyes were cold.

Trailing right behind her was Beth, a mop in hand. She clenched her hand around the mop as we made eye contact; her blue eyes alerting absolute concern. I gave her a small head nod, but that only did so much for her anxiety. Beth didn't want to see me get hurt, but one thing she would quickly learn about me was that now I knew how to put up a fight.

A gun was tucked under my leg, and I set down my knife, too.

Doctor Richard was standing behind me, his hands gripping my wheelchair. He claimed to me that he wanted to check my wounds, but I knew he was standing behind me to protect me in case my Mom decided to strike. And for that, I did not protest.

Mom emerged into the cafeteria, sauntering one step at a time in a slow pace, and it felt as though she was taunting me. Beth stopped at the wall nearest to us, leaning against it and pulling the mop closer to her chest. Dawn continued walking towards her daughter in the wheelchair until she was just a few feet ahead of me. Her face was flat and dull and emotionless; just like I remembered her to be.

Dawn opened her mouth to speak to me, but felt a wandering pair of eyes on the two of us. She turned around to Beth, who was standing a few feet behind us and listening in.