THE KIDS AREN'T ALRIGHT carl grimes

ᵛⁱⁱⁱ. ᴇɪɢʜᴛ

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴇɪɢʜᴛ
[〝sᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ᴛᴏ ʟɪᴠᴇ ғᴏʀ 〞]
—

WE STOPPED ON the side of the road. The rotting remains of a few biters littered the ground, though the lack of flys confirmed they'd long since been dead. Rick dropped the bag, filled with supplies and the remaining guns. Carl pulled a bottle out of the bag he was carrying and sat down to feed Judith, who he'd been carrying since we'd left the broken little cabin everyone had reunited at.

Rick pulled Tara aside to talk to her, and though it seemed a bit strange that he hadn't tried to talk to anyone else, I ignored it. It wasn't my business, and I didn't really care what he had to say. Everyone else was spread around, eating and talking amongst themselves.

When Rick ended whatever he was talking about, Tara held her fist out for a fist bump and moved over to sit beside me. Silently, I passed her a piece of beef jerky.

"What a shit storm." She said, chewing on the meat. I nodded silently, and we didn't talk anymore after that.

The break was short lived, a few people moving out towards the woods to take a bathroom break. When everyone had finally caught their breath and the ache in our legs retired, we were back on the road. I shoved the remaining pack of jerky into my bag, pulling the strap of the gun back onto my shoulder and followed the rest of the group as they made their way down the street.

If you've never walked through the country in the severe Virginia heat while severely malnourished and very annoyed, you've never known hell. Despite the fact it was already September, and it had been cold three days ago, the weather had taken a sharp turn right into the fiery pits of hell. Everyone was sweaty, and Judith had been crying for the past two miles. I would give anything to be back in Wisconsin visiting my grandparents right about now. I would kill for a stick of deodorant.

The sun began to set, and I wanted to die a little less. The group settled, moving into the forest and away from the main road. Laying down bags and packages of food as their makeshift camp, everyone took a seat and started eating. Daryl walked around the woods, looking for wood to start a fire.

Carl sat next to me on the ground. He didn't say anything for awhile, so I had no reason to speak. We just sat, eating our apple sauce and stale crackers.

He cleared his voice. "So, uh, what did you do for fun? You know, before." He asked awkwardly.

I looked at him, deciding whether or not to answer.

Deciding I probably wouldn't answer, he spoke himself. "I played video games, watched movies. My dad tried to get me into baseball, but man, I really sucked." He said.

I held his gaze for a moment. Eventually, he broke it, sure I wasn't going to answer.

"I read. And played soccer for a little while." I said, staring into the fire.

He nodded. "Were you any good?"

"I guess." I answered. I suppressed a yawn that threatened to break out and subtly cracked my neck. "I'm tired, goodnight." I rolled over, resting my head on my bag and closing my eyes. Leaves crunched behind me as Carl got up and made his way to the rest of the group.

I guess I wasn't really that tired. Years of being alone and alert rewired my brain in a way that wasn't really fit for sleeping. I still slept, of course, just not very often. Lately, I'd been sleeping more than ever and it was starting to take a toll on my body. The dark circles and heavy bags that used to serve as testimonies of my lack of sleep had dulled. However, my decisions were becoming sharper, I could keep up with everyone better and took less breaks. Benefits of eating sort of regularly and getting more than a few hours of rest a week, I suppose.

I turned onto my side, watching the flames of the fire lick the darkness. I could see a few faces, illuminated by the golden light. Eugene, frowning about something. Tara, laughing at him. Maggie was cuddled up to Glenn, both looking down with content smiles aimed at the other. She giggled as he whispered something in her ear.

How long could these people really pretend to be good? I suppose not long— I wasn't an easy person to lie to. Maybe things would be easier if I just accepted that I was obviously going to be with them for a while. Who knows when Abraham would find a ride suitable for the journey. On the other hand why did I even trust him enough to get me to Washington. I was only with his little group for few days when it got me tossed in the cannibal camp.

Why did I even care? It was a damn miracle I'd lasted this long anyways. It wasn't like I had anyone to live for. My gaze flickered back around the fire, watching how everyone interacted with each other. How they laughed and smiled and lived. They were a family, anyone could see it.

My chest felt just a little bit heavier. I hadn't had what they had in so long, I learned to live without it. Now I wasn't so sure I wanted to. I realized I'd never had a family. Sure, I had Aunt Jane and Uncle John, and for a time I'd had mom. But even before, we never cared for each other the way these people did. My aunt tried, she really did. But it's hard to care for someone that won't give you the time of day. I felt bad for treating her the way I had, especially towards the end.

Suddenly I didn't want to sleep anymore. I wanted to get up and sit by the fire. I wanted to laugh with the others, I wanted to have a family.

But we don't always get what we want, and it's not always what we need. So I stayed on my own in the shadows.

'Whatever. What's done is done and there's nothing you can do to change that.' I silently reminded myself. Being with the people made me weak. I didn't need to feel bad about being cold towards people that could never hear an apology, and I didn't need a family.

I didn't need to care about anyone else, and I didn't need them to care about me. I didn't need someone to live for, because that would only make dying that much harder. I needed to get to Washington, and I didn't need anything—no matter how warm and cuddly, no matter how caring— getting in my way.

So I stayed where I was, and I went to sleep.