THIRTY-NINE: carl grimes is a pervert

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i walk in between my sister and carl who happened to be holding judith, like always. i could feel my heart beating out of my chest in anticipation. i could sense how close we were to the community; the houses we past progressively got less and less run down. i wasn't one to get my hope up but for once i wanted to be normal again. i wanted to focus on my family. i wanted claire to be a kid. i feel a nudge on my arm and glance over to see claire eyeballing something ahead of us. i follow her gaze to see a big metal fence grow nearer with every step. "no fucking way" i whisper to myself. the closer we get to the fence, the farther i can see it stretches. it looks like it goes on forever. my heart pumps and my stomach bubbles in excitement but i force it down. you can never let your guard down, ever.

we finally reach the gate and it slowly slides open with a rattling noise. i pull my machete out of my belt loop and hold the base firmly. everyone around me is on edge so naturally the scurrying of a possum in some trash caused an arrow to be shot by my dad. he lets out a sigh as he picks up the possum by its tail. "we brought dinner" my dad coughs.

the guy behind the gate doesn't seem too pleased but aaron isn't bothered. "it's fine" he reassures the man before waving at us, "come on in"

i watch as my dad slowly makes his way past the gate, the rest of us following in a line. i feel the grip on my machete loosen as i walk into the community. clean white houses line the eerily clean streets that wind and intersect as far as the eye can see. the entire place seemed empty, almost as if it wasn't lived in. i shake my head, it was too good to be true. my heart drops as i hear the closing of the gate behind me; they were locking us in.

"before we take this any further, i need you all to turn over your weapons" the unknown man annouces. my grip on my machete tightens as no one does anything. "stay, and you hand them over" he presses.

"we don't know if we want to stay yet" rick growls, stepping forward. aaron tries to reassure the man, whose name is actually nicholas, but rick doesn't back down,"if we wanted to use them  we would've started already" i watch nicholas' eyes dart from person to person; he meets mine for a second and i shoot a glare straight back.

"let them talk to deanna first" aaron asks nicholas. nicholas doesn't respond instead abraham asks who deanna is. "she knows everything you'd want to know about this place" he explains before turning to rick, "why don't you start?"

i hesitantly make my way into the room, the cold air sending chills down my spine. i rest my hand on the machete that i was able to sneak in. i guess they'd didn't think teenagers could have weapons; fatal mistake. the room is neatly decorated with various knick knacks you see in every suburban home; old books no one reads, magazines, glass bowls, you name it. the only thing that stood out was the old camera set up on a tripod across from the furniture. the woman sitting on the couch closest to the camera so that she is juts out of frame, turns around. "hello. i'm dianna monroe" she introduces calmly, "and you are?"

i ignore her question, "what's the camera for?"

she smiles soflty, "just documentation for the future" her voice had a soft yet commanding force to it that i just nod even though it seemed super creepy to videotape a teenage girl's interview. "now, why don't you come sit down" she waves to the chair across from her. i slowly make my way to the chair and sit down, careful not to let my hand off my machete.

"finn dixon" i scoff.

"pardon me?"

i roll my eyes, "my name is finn dixon"

a smile lights up on her face, "so you're the infamous finn. i've heard a lot about you"

i raise an eyebrow, "what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐚'𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐱.   carl grimesWhere stories live. Discover now