𝐇𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐑𝐃 │ 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐋 𝐃𝐈𝐗𝐎𝐍 ¹ [✔]

[56]: vagabonds and dogs

Those weren't the worst days of my life. They weren't those type of days. But they weren't pleasant.

I spent most of my waking moments paranoid and warm, unable to find comfort in any way.

And then there were those three people, who reminded me of a time I wanted to forget. To never relive again yet everytime I laid my eyes on them, all I could think about was my birthday.

The condensation icing the window took most of my attention away from the conversation in the car, and I drew long lines along the surface, creating swirls and inaccurate lines.

"There's gotta be somewhere," T-Dog commented. I tore my eyes away from outside to look at the front seat.

"Do you think Rick has anywhere in mind?" Harvey asked. He was sat next to me, holding his hand tightly in his lap. "He seems to look like he knows exactly where he's going."

"I'm not sure any of us know where he thinks he's going," Glenn sighed. I looked over Harvey and towards Glenn, blinking slowly.

He looked tired, and not as positive as I normally saw him. It made me lose hope when people like him were so down. That nothing was ever going to be okay again.

I learnt that a long time ago. Those things were never going to be the same. Hope was no longer a choice; you were lucky to be given it.

"We haven't found anywhere as good as the theatre in a while," T-Dog continued. "It's too cold now to just keep moving around."

"It's too cold to do anything," Daryl added. He sat in the seat in front of me, disgruntled because he couldn't drive his motorbike anymore. When we acquired more people, we needed another car, and therefore couldn't spare enough fuel for his own private steed. I could tell he wanted to be alone with his thoughts but he had to grin and bear it.

I looked up to the mirror, watching his eyes scan the horizon.

Before he could spot me staring, I turned my gaze back to the window, biting my lip furiously.

The group had accumulated many woolen and thick lined coats and scarves on our travels. Big coats and gloves. Most of them went to Carl and Lori first; Maggie, Beth, and Carol second; Hershel, Glenn, T-Dog, Rick, and Daryl; then myself; lastly Harvey, Will, and Laura.

No one voiced how low on the food chain I had gotten, but I could tell I was always last.

I had managed to sneak a hat and coat, but what I craved were gloves.

We had only managed to find a few pairs, so most of us had been graced with numb fingers for the start of the winter. Rolling our sleeves down as far as possible, to try and fend off the shivering bite that came with the Christmas months.

I was turning twenty-one anytime soon.

I tugged on my hat, folding the ends over my ears. I was just ready to get out of the damned car and lay down.

"Do you need some water?" Harvey spoke quietly to me. I shook my head without looking at him.

I seemed to only close my eyes for a moment before the car came to a screeching halt and the lineup stopped.

My eyelashes flickered on the skin above my eyes as I came to look at a tall and harrowing house.

It had dark bricks and wet wood, spires, and gargoyles. In the middle of nowhere, it was an oasis of darkness and dust.

I simply frowned up at it, as I steadily stepped out of the car and blinked into the slow falling rain.

I heard more than saw Rick give out the orders about who was going in to search the house.