Carl Grimes's life was great. He had both parents, a ton of friends, and a great role model. His dad was a sheriff at the King's County Police Department, while his mom was a stay at home mother. His role model just so happened to be his dad's best...
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Emily's Pov
Three years since the incident.
Another day of school has passed and I was putting my books in my bag. I placed my math notebook in my bag, after I had written down the equations our teacher had assigned us to do. I knew Carl would need help because he has never been to good with fractions.
Speaking of Carl, he wasn't really himself today. He told me when he arrived that his parents had been arguing this morning. Right in front of him, too. I wouldn't know what that is like. My parents didn't really love each other. The reason I was born was because of a measly one night stand. The arguing I ever hear is from my dad's occasional girlfriend, which never really lasts long. But Carl's parents must love each other if they've been together for so long. Right?
Pushing my thoughts aside, I zipped up my bag only to be pushed from behind. Before I could catch myself, I tumbled to the ground. Pain shot through my hands as they made contact with the floor. Whimpering, I sat up only to see that the culprit was Alexander Reeves. The boy who completely despises me. Why? I have no idea.
He ran a hand through his blonde hair, smirking down at me. He batted his eyelashes that covered his emerald green eyes.
"Oh, Emily. I'm so sorry," he said, emphasizing the 'so', "but you should really stay out of people's way. I mean, do you really have to be such a menace?". Carl walked over and helped me up, careful of my hands. "Aw. Did I hurt the poor wittle baby?" Alexander mocked, as Carl stood in front of me as instinct.
"Watch it, Reeves." he warned, his crystal eyes becoming darker with anger.
"No, you watch it, Grimes. I'm talking to Walsh." Alexander said, before pushing Carl aside to get a better look at me. He grabs one of my scraped up hands roughly. I glared at him, but didn't speak. "What are you gonna do, little Walsh? Call mommy? She was an EMT, right? Oh, wait. She's dead, isn't she?" he taunted, reminding me that my mother died three years ago, leaving me to my father. That was the breaking point and Carl knew it, too. He quickly grabbed Alexander's wrist, causing him to drop my hand, and pushed him back.
"Keep your hands off of her!" he demanded, before Ms. Mueller walked through the classroom door. Everyone's eyes went to her in shock.
"Children, what on earth is going on in here? Emily, Are you crying?" she asked, walking over to the scene. She took my hands in hers, gently. "Carl, take Emily to the nurse. The bell will ring shortly, so take your bags. I expect an explanation Monday morning, first thing." she said. I grabbed my bag quickly before anyone could see more than one tear slide down my cheeks and walked into the hallway.
The hallway was quiet, other than my footsteps and Carl's, who trailed behind. All this time I've spent trying to forget my mother and someone just had to bring it back up. If my father heard about this, he'd tell me I'm too nice and that I need to kick Alexander's ass.
"Em, are you okay? Alex is just trying to get into your head. Don't let him. What he's saying, it's just lies." he stated, as he sprinted to catch up with me. I stopped and turned abruptly causing him to run into me.
"But it is true, Carl. My mom is dead! And if my dad really wanted me, he would've been around when I was younger." I stopped my self, thinking of how selfish I'm being. I quickly wrapped my arms around his neck. "I'm sorry. I'm being so selfish. You have your own problems and you don't need to be bombarded by mine." I said, as he finally began to return my hug. I slowly broke the embrace and turned to walk to the nurse. Before I could even take a step, Carl grabbed my wrist and spun me back around to face him.
"You're my best friend. Your problems are mine. We're in this together. In no way are you being selfish. You just got bullied and you thought of me before you thought of you. That's not selfish. Now, let's get you to the nurse," he used my wrist to turn my hand over, making the scrapes visible, "because that looks bad."
꧁꧂
The visit to the nurse's office went well. Carl had to wait outside in the hall while the nurse kindly disinfected both of my hands and bandaged them. Afterwards, I thanked her and walked out into the hall only to find Carl reading my sacred journal. When the clicked shut behind me, Carl nearly jumped out of his skin. He quickly tried to shove the book back into my bag. He then turned to me with an innocent smile on his face. I leaned against the wall beside the door and folded my arms.
Smiling down at him mischievously, I asked, "Whatcha doing?" He quickly became flustered.
"Oh, me? Uh, I was counting my fingers. Did you know that the average human has ten fingers?" he said trying to cover up his lie.
"Is that so? I have a fact for you. Did you know that the average boy who reads that average journal," I said pointing to the journal that was still sticking out of my bag, before continuing, "gets an average of one broken bone per read?"
His blue eyes widened and he gulped. "Oh, uh. I didn't know that. That's a nice fact." he laughed nervously.
The final school bell of the day rang. Luckily for Carl and I, the nurse's office was beside the main entrance. We walked out side by side as Carl decided to talk about one of his new comics that his dad had gotten him recently. I laughed at his pouty face when he explained how the antagonist got away while the hero was saving a damsel in distress.
I looked around the school yard searching for Mrs. Grimes, Carl's mom. Normally, my dad would still be at work when I got out of school. So Mrs. Grimes would pick me up in the afternoon, along with Carl, and take me to her house to work on homework until Dad got off of work with Officer Grimes.
I finally found Mrs. Grimes in the crowd, but my dad was talking to her. His tan face expressed guilt while Mrs. Grimes's pale, porcelain face showed distress.
Carl must have noticed I was no longer paying attention to him because he nudged my arm. "You okay?" he asked, his freckled face showing confusion.
"Um... Yeah. It's just my dad's here and he doesn't get off until six. I feel like something's wrong." I said, turning his attention to our parents standing a few yards ahead of us. I observed the police cars behind them. Officer Grimes was no where to be found. "Your dad isn't here, Carl." I said, as we continued to walk forward.
"Nothing to worry about. He's probably just back at the station doing paperwork." he smiled at me. Trying to calm my thoughts of Deja Vu, I smiled back before jogging over to my dad. Carl did the same going over to his mom.
"Hi, daddy." I said, hugging his neck as he crouched down to my eyelevel. He laughed a little before remembering why he was here.
"Hey, honeybunch.", he paused, looking down then looking back at me, "Look, something happened at work today. And there's no easy way to say this... " he trailed off, his dark eyes reaching the ground again.
"It's okay, daddy. You can tell me. I can handle it." I reassured him. This conversation seemed so familiar.
"Rick, or 'Officer Grimes'," he pointed out the Officer Grimes part because I never called him by his first name, "had an accident. He was shot today by a bad guy that we didn't see." he said the news slowly, allowing it to sink in. Officer Grimes was shot. The man I thought of as a second father to me was shot. How could happen? How my dad let this happen to his own best friend?, I thought to myself.
"Daddy, no... He couldn't.. He can't be..." I trailed off as salty tears made their way down my freckled cheeks. Dad grabbed my arms gently to calm me down.
"He's in a coma. He could wake up, but there's a possibility that he won't." he said.
I was about to reply when I was tackled in a hug from behind. Catching my balance, I turned to see that had tears streaming down his pale cheeks. He tried to speak, but his voice hiccuped. To hush him, I hugged his neck and whispered to him that everything was going to be okay. But as Carl's salty tears stained my blue school shirt, the only thought that ran through my head was, 'Is everything really going to be okay?'
Hey guys. I'm back! So I've been trying my hardest to write future chapters. But it the dialogue is a pain in the petunias. My DVR decided that it wanted to delete the TWD episodes on its own, so I have to figure out another way to, besides researching every episode, to get the dialogue.
Anyways, other than that I have literally become obsessed with the Hamilton soundtrack. It is my life! *Dramatically sings* "I hope you... Burnnnnnn...." Okay, okay. I'm done, but hey! Please vote and I'll catch you next time.
