PROLOUGE. Hospital Bound

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M A D E L Y N    G R I M E S

"Mostly it is loss which teaches us about the worth of things."  -Arthur Schopenhauer

"Daddy? Why won't you wake up?"

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"Daddy? Why won't you wake up?"

That night, tears fell down my rosey, glossy cheeks. My heart pounded swiftly, but softly, and my mind was frazzled. I locked eyes with his dreadful, breathless face. The doctors said he was in a coma, and I knew crying would only seem childish.

But I couldn't help it.

How can you not cry when your father gets shot and goes into a coma? You cannot speak to him, and he may never wake up and be able to look you in the eyes again. You cannot be in his warm grasp or feel his breath on the back of your neck or even speak a word to him, because he is mostly dead.

"Come on, Madi." I heard my mother say daintily, her arms wrapping around my waist. "Carl can't handle this much longer."

I looked over at my young brother, his head in his hands and loud sobs escaping his frail lips. I couldn't see him cry any longer, so I kissed my father on the head, got out of my mothers grasp, and sat with Carl, on the side of the hospital room.

"Carl..." I whispered, my lips quivering.

Carl spoke no words, but looked up at me. The dissapointment and fear in his eyes was enough to make me cry even more. I touched his hand, making him flinch. I was never this nice to him.

"He's going to be okay," I said, even though I knew he wouldn't be.

"Everyone keeps saying that," Carl mumbled through sobs. "But no one really knows, Madelyn. Not you, not mom, not the doctors.. not even daddy himself." The intelligence drifted off his tongue with cracks.

I showed a small, concerned frown. How are you supposed to reply to that?

Instead of saying anything, I wrapped my arms around him, and he wrapped his arms around me.

What else were we supposed to do the night that Rick Grimes, our father, was shot?

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