Crestfallen ↬ Carl Grimes (old version)

A D A M A N T I N E

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: ADAMANTINE

❝ My biggest fear is that eventually, you will see me the same way I see myself. ❞

❝Why? What did I do to cause this much pain on myself and on the people around me? These people deserved none of this, yet I deserved every single second of it. I needed to fix what I had done, even if it means my death. ❞

➳

*This Chapter may need a trigger warning for those who are sensitive to certain scenes, so be warned. Either way, It'll suck because like I've said before, I have absolutely zero skills in writing suspenseful, multi-actioned, or emotional scenes like this, so bare with me.*

DEAD SILENCE. That's the only thing you could describe what was happening now as everyone's eyes trained on me. The men beating up Daryl ceased their actions, Carl stopped banging on the nearly broken window, even Len seemed transfixed on me, my chin held high as I stood in the hands of my captor, the stinging bite of the blade against skin not lowering my confidence once so ever. It seemed as if the moon itself was holding its breath, the air thick and claustrophobic as it watched, waiting to observe the scene unfold from below its milky stars.

"You mean to tell me," he started, "that you, a small pea of a girl, killed my man with safety scissors?"

Nobody said anything to his words, for any sort of humor was drained out of his voice. This man wasn't all chuckles and jokes anymore; he wanted nothing but blood, the more the merrier. But there was no way I was going to let anyone hurt Carl, his father, or Michonne. I would do anything to make sure that didn't happen. Even if it meant I had to stop pretending to be the innocent Milah they have grown used to and start acting like the true, old Milah. The Milah nobody should remember, and the one I couldn't forget.

"That's exactly what I'm saying," I let a maniacal laugh bubble through my lips, "Watched as the life drained out of him too. Poor thing couldn't even say any last words."

With one jerk of his hand, my captor had me on the ground, kneeling in the dried out leaves in front of the white haired man. Two other men followed his lead, dragging Daryl out from behind the truck to kneel beside me. The man whom I once believed was our savior was now covered in his own blood. His lip was cut, nose bleeding, old scars reopening to cover almost every inch of his skin. I couldn't help but grimace at his appearance. I caused this. I had taken so many people's lives, yet this one I had to pay for. Why? What did I do to cause this much pain on myself and on the people around me? These people deserved none of this, yet I deserved every single second of it. I needed to fix what I had done, even if it means my death.

"Want me to kill them both Joe? I can do it, right here right now." James questioned, nudging the tip of his blade into the side of my neck.

Rick and Michonne both opened their mouths to speak but I shook my head, three quick jerks of my chin, trying desperately to signal that it was stupid for them to even try. Because it was. Anything any of us were to try would be stupid, so why not go for a different tactic and minimize the amount of stupidity we put fourth on the table and at least survive for another five minutes.

"James, she's claimed. You know better than to go against the rules, don't you?"

A look of pure terror flashed across Daryl's face as he looked at Joe, then at me, shaking his head rapidly. Claimed. That word meant something; attached to my life and yet I didn't even know why or what it meant. Yet it seemed to catch all of the men's attention, for they were all looking at Joe with wide eyes.