Sage ➸ Carl Grimes

3 ➸ maroon

{ Civilian by Wye Oak }

C A R L

I tossed my gun on the wood table to the kitchen, grunting. I looked down to the blood on my hands and the maroon color of the substance, scowling.

I was cloaked in blood and it began to stick on my light skin. I frowned.

Small, lightweight footsteps edged from behind me, so I turned around and searched for the grey in her eyes.

The girl closed the front door from behind her, compressing back any cool air from the outside. She hugged her thin, futile sweater to her body and circled around the couch.

I watched her every movement precisely, narrowing my eyes.

The girl stopped walking as she was five feet in front of me. She watched quietly as I eyed her small body.

She looked wasted and starved and flushed right down the drain. Her body fell in tight curves, most likely from starvation. Her cheekbones were high yet soft, and her lips were as pale as her skin. She would tuck her arms inside her sweater to hide the truth I already sought. The girl had deep markings up and down her forearms, some faded and others fresh and crude. Her light complexion soothed me, and her face was tattered in occasional dirt and droplets of blood. Her eyes were a beaming grey, much like the clouds and sky I used to pray and give myself to.

I took my lower lip between my teeth as I thought and wondered hastily.

Does she eat? I wondered. Does she drink, does she live, does she...try?

I blinked a few times and shook my head. I looked down to my hands and then back up at her.

You still think she's beautiful, I admitted. Her imperfections are what drawl you in, and you simply cannot deny that. Even if she weren't, she is the key and only hope you have in keeping yourself sane.

"Do you have any rags or towels in this place?" I asked, ensuring that my voice was deep and harsh. I held my hands out as visual proof, and she stared down at them, scrunching her nose.

Her face tightened and she folded her arms at her chest. The girl with the lovely eyes never gave me a response.

"Well?" I pushed.

With her arms crossed over on her chest, she spun on her heel and began trudging across the living room. My eyes were narrowed and followed her body down the household, just until she reached the staircase. She looked back at me once with pity, before practically pulling her weak body up the stairs, ignoring my question.

"God damn it," I muttered.

I shook my head hastily and turned around, scanning the area for a supply closet of some sorts. Most of the house was abandoned and cleared of any supplies, and I reminded myself then that I needed to find a new home.

But will you bring the small, weak, lovely girl with you? I asked myself.

I closed my eyes and bent my sheriff hat down to stop myself.

I walked along the downstairs hallway, checking inside every closet. I twisted open a knob and opened the white, wood door, and finding myself jolting backward slightly in surprise.

In the small closet was stuffed a corpse, and the aroma of its innocent death came flowing through my senses. I grabbed my nose and used the other hand to clutch my chest, steadying my heart rate. My lips were parted as I gawked at the body. It's limbs were entangled and stuffed inside the small space, and a knife gash directly through its temple. Its dark skin began to peel and rot and decay, and the boy looked young...too young to be dead.