Clarke is the youngest Winchester sibling. Like every Winchester, her life was full of grief, sadness, pain, heartache and death.
What happens when the world crumbles and dead bodies start springing back to life? What happens when Clarke gains a gro...
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FOR the first time in awhile, Clarke found herself alone. A huddled heap of ripped jeans and torn coats, she sat alone and utterly terrified in the darkness.
The dark consumed her frail form. Her group wasn't here to soothe her fears, nor was Beth to sing her songs. It was just her, alone in the complete darkness.
It's been only two days so far and she felt so alone that it makes her want to die.
She hated that she can't hold in her loneliness. That is one of her many fucking weaknesses that she hated. Being alone leaves her to think and when she thinks... it's never good.
She's been crying too often lately that it makes her want to rip out her own eyeballs. She hates crying. Crying is for the weak.
So, here she say, her bitch face on, and a fire in front of her.
"Stupid," she muttered. "Stupid motherfucking Governor had to ruin everything good that was in my miserable, apocalyptic life." She was angry, furious, even. She knew that people were getting sick and dying, but for once, they had a stable-ish environment that they could all relish in, but, like always, something had to ruin it.
She is so happy that she saw the Governor go down, but she's also angry because she wasn't the one to do it. Rick was.
She sighed and poked the fire with a stick. The fire crackled and burned brighter.
She then looked up at the night sky.
Stars light the sky like snow-flakes in the night, yet appear still, like an old photograph. She closed her eyes, feeling the wind blow her hair into a tousled mane. Were she out there in space, riding the limits of the known universe, they would be a choreographed blizzard. How the stars would move, the galaxies tumble and dart. But for now, with her butt planted on the cold, wet ground, the starlight kept its familiar pattern. The constellations, who'd witnessed centuries and millennia just the same, watched over this tiny moment.
She leaned her head back, tears skidding down her cheeks as she thought about praying to Cas, but she knew it wouldn't happen. Cas barely had any angel grace in him. He was more human than angel, so that meant he wouldn't be able to hear her if she prayed.
"Ugh." She leaned forward and wiped her tears away as she heard low rumbling from the woods that were surrounding her. With the rumbling came growls and moaning.
Bending down, she hid herself behind the log, and the overgrown grass. The rain-washed dirt, leaves, and twigs pushed into her chilled skin. The moans become louder, the dragging of limbs harder to even ignore, until a walker looms into view — ravaged by a dog, lower jaw so broken that its mouth hung open, tongue lolling.
She glanced to the side where her dagger sat on the log as the walker came closer to where she was hiding.
Quickly, she reached over, grabbed the dagger, and jumped up. She ran towards the walker, grabbed it from it's ratched hair, and stabbed it in the head. She grunted as she stumbled over a root, and fell to the wet ground.
She let out a yelp as she fell to the ground, the walker landing on her. She shoved it off, but seeing as her knife was stuck into it's cranium, it fell on top if her, again. She grunted and yanked the dagger out if it before pushing the walker off of her, again.
She stumbled up to her feet and let out a heavy sigh. She dusted herself off before standing up straighter.
She was then tackled by someone — something.
She screamed as she went flying backwards, her arm getting caught in it's mouth.
She grabbed the things black fur and pulled back on it, and stabbed her dagger into it's skin. The thing yelped and jumped back, giving her enough time to see that it was a wolf that had attacked her.
She pushed herself backwards, her dagger tightly in her hand.
When the wolf launched itself at her, she rolled to the side, and jumped up to her feet. Instead of letting the wolf attack her, Clarke jumped into it's back and stabbed the dagger in it's back. The wolf struggled and started to jerk her around which made the dagger slide down it's back.
With one last jerk, she was thrown back into a tree, her shoulder hitting the tree roughly, a loud popping noise was emitted. She yelled out, holding onto her shoulder as she pushed herself up from her lying position on the ground.
Her blue eyes landed on the withering wolf before it fell the ground, stopped breathing, and died right in front of her.
