Take My Hand: Walking Dead Fanfic

Chapter 9-Youth

Chapter 9

•Carl•

I sighed in relief as the walker dropped to the floor, staring over the walker. I turned to look at Joslyn, wanting to see if she was okay, but she had shock in her eyes. Her whole body was stiff and she just looked paralyzed.

I followed the trail of her eyes as she stared at the decaying walker. Hr mouth started to open and her lips started to quiver and she shuffled on the ground, sitting next to the walker. She bit her bottom lip as she looked down, puzzling.

I saw her body tense again and she choked on her breath. Tears filled her eyes as she let her ear curve on the walkers chest as her tears engraved all the cuts. She laid in blood, but didn't seem to care.

"Carl..."

I heard Daryl yell to me in a soft whisper, not wanting Joslyn to hear. I directed my body to them as they motioned to her. They were confused and wanted me to ask her what was happening.

I slowly wandered around, making my way to Joslyn. I squatted down in front of her, hovering over the other side of the walker, supporting myself with my elbows parallel on my knees. I eyed the group on the porch, seeing Michonne wave her hand to Joslyn and flailed it, telling me to go on.

She kept taking the walkers light, mud and blood dyed hair, and kept taking each strand and dangled them behind it's ear. She touched the doll that was suffocated by the walkers hand and the ground it was getting squished by.

"Joslyn..."

I raised my eyebrows at her, talking gently and calm like you do when you try to ask a little kid if they were the ones who colored on the white wall with red crayon.

She slowly lifted her head up, just drifting her eyes foreword and her breathing was erratic. She swallowed and the blood that was scribbled on her pale face smeared and she sat straight.

"What did you do..."
She began.

"What did you do?!"

She didn't move anything but her hand, reaching for her holster that hung from her belt, taking out her knife. My eyes widened as I fell back, catching myself with my hand and crawling away.

"YOU KILLED HER!"

She bawled. She hovered over the walker, stepping over it and she came over me. She pushed me down, holding one of my shoulders pinned and she held the knife up, yet my hand grasped over hers as I resisted the knife away.

I saw from the corner of my eye, the group heading towards us. I stretched my neck as she got closer. I saw her eyes water and she just kept swallowing, moaning, and whining.

Michonne pulled Joslyn up by her waist and Joslyn hung down over Michonne's arm, helpless, and she let the knife drop on the grass.

What was that.
Why was she so sad.
Who was-

Her family. My dad was right. Joslyn now had no reason to leave. She had no reason to stay, either. Not just with the group...

Watch her, Carl, something told me. She's just like you.

How is she like me? Why do I have to protect her- no one protects me.

She's not okay. She understands; and you think she's pretty.

My cheeks got hot from the voice in my head. I watched as Michonne talked to Joslyn, staring at her, yet Joslyn only looked at me.

There was hatred in her eyes.

Good job Carl. She's barely been here for two days and you tried to kill her, and you killed her mom...

She was already dead.

Joslyn sat down, her back rejecting the rest of the group. All she did was stare down at her dead mother. I went and sat on the porch as I watched her, I've been watching her since the incident. The rest of the group stood in a huddle and I kept saw my dad gesturing to Joslyn.

Asshole. I thought. You don't realize who that is. It's. Her. Mom. I know what she's going through, you don't. When mom died, you barely even kept attention of me. When mom died, you didn't see how I changed. I grew up differently then you. Your life was easier. Your youth wasn't wasted like mine is. You don't understand. You don't care.

Asshole.

I focused my attention on something more important: Joslyn. I finally saw her move. She took the doll from the walker's hands, placing it's hand down on it's chest. She stood up, walking towards the house: no eye contact given.