CHAPTER ONE ━━ the dead street
SEASON FOUR; episode nine

An icy cold breeze hit the shaken girl's face, her dark unbrushed hair blew in front of her face blocking her view of the hallway. She sat on the stiff king bed making sure to keep in the sunlight that was streaming out of the window. She had counted every single horrid flower on the bedding, four hundred and fifty-nine yellow sunflowers that were obviously sewn by someone inexperienced on a hideous itchy red cover. It would've for sure given her a migraine if she was stuck in this room. She picked anxiously at the skin around her nails, chewing the ends of her nails, and tearing them off with her teeth. There was no sign of her Dad but the empty bag of food he had left her, he promised, and he always kept his promises. He would always come back. Maybe he was dead, devoured by those flesh-eating monsters, tears stung at the back of her eyes as she sniffled, propping herself off the bed,  the metal coils squeaking in reply.

She slowly tiptoed on the creamed coloured carpet to the door, she peeked her head out scanning the hallway, but nothing. The wooden floor creaked underneath the girl's light steps as she made it to the other end of the hallway to the bathroom. Rather inconvenient for her, how far the bathroom was from the Master bedroom. The mirror had been smashed due to the previous people who had found this place and stripped it of everything useful. There was not a single pill of any medication whatsoever. Rotten fruit and spoiled milk and a few boxes of stale, mouldy cereal.

She bent her knees a bit to fit her reflection in the one shard of mirror that stayed on the frame. She carefully outlined the healing wound on her face with her right hand trying to keep it as steady as she could, hissing under her breath as the stinging pain started to kick in again.  The stinging spread outwards across her skin, her veins burning. The cold rusted metal touched her grazed hand as she turned the tap earning a scream deep within the pipes only for a few droplets of water. She carefully placed her index finger under the tap catching the droplets. She painted over the wound crossing her fingers. 

She stared at herself, dark circles surrounding her eyes, deepening them, all fat around her face was gone like she had her soul sucked right out of her. The insides of someone stained her red coat which had faded in the time she had spent in the daylight, the sun draining all the colour from it. Her oversized boots took from her Mother another chunk of guilt she had to drag with her. She might as well be one of them, she as hell looked like them.

The front door downstairs swung open, hitting the wall and sending a shockwave of anxiety through the small girl's body. She quickly made her way back to the safety of the master bedroom, carefully making sure she was jumping on the floor panels that didn't make a sound. Landing on the soft carpet, she softly closed the door leaving a small gap so she could see the hallway clearly.

She could hear what seemed to be two people slowly walking around downstairs. One with lighter and quicker footsteps and the other with heavier and slower ones were coughing their lungs out, taking every last bit of their energy to take a breath. 

"Carl!" The Man's voice was strained yet he elevated his voice that got both of the footsteps to fall silent.

"I got it! All the doors down here are open." A squeaky voice angrily replied to the Man, the walking resumed again this time slower, but less hesitant. A loud bang travelled through the fragile walls of the house, she prayed that the people would just move on, and leave her alone.

"Hey, asshole!" The boy yelled once again, this time with irritation lingering in his words. She covered her ears with her hands waiting for a gunshot to ring.

"Hey, shitface!

"Hey-!

"Watch your mouth!" The older man put him down, and his banging finally came to a stop, "Are you kidding me?! If there was one of them down there, they would have come out.!" The boy frustratedly made his way up the stairs, each step could've been heard from any corner of the house. She slightly peeked at the Hallway, the boy had tracked mud into the house with his boots. She winced as he kicked open a door causing her to panic, placing herself behind the bed, out of sight. Her heart pounded hard against her chest as the steps grew louder and louder. She tucked her legs against her chest. Her chest felt like they were being compressed by someone putting their whole body weight onto her.

The boy descended the stairs, and the weight slightly lifted off her chest as she took in a deep breath. She looked at the popcorn ceiling, she was now stuck in this house by herself. She couldn't just go and introduce herself, they were survivors hardened by the world around them. She looked to the white window, dust covered the ledge like a thick woollen blanket. Standing to her feet, she pulled the red coat over the palm of her right hand, dragging her hand across the ledge sending the dust onto the carpeted floor and into the air. Shaking her hand into the air, getting the dust that crept onto her skin off. She tried to pull the window up but to no surprise, it didn't budge. She let out an exasperated sigh sitting down on the floor once again.

She could take the risk, and try the other rooms' windows upstairs. The two people seemed to have made themselves comfortable downstairs. They were making a lot of noise, moving furniture around. She winced at the thought of them scratching the hardwood floors but then again did it really matter? She could feel her eyes get heavier and heavier as the sun slowly slipped out of the sky.

She was awakened by a boy shouting, his anger filling the silent morning. Rubbing her sore eyes she leaned against the bed, birds were chirping their heads off without a care in the world. She almost felt Jealous... Her life would be so easy as a bird, worrying about nothing, just free. She looked at the two birds, foxy brown feathers with heavy, dark streaking on their whitish underparts. She couldn't quite remember the name of the birds. At least there was a small part of the world that was still normal.

Her ears picked up the commotion on the front porch, curiosity overcame her as she looked out the window to see the boy leading two Dead away from the front door. He was wearing a worn maroon cowboy hat. Carelessly holding a gun in his right hand. She turned around, making her way hesitantly downstairs. Downstairs was darker than the last time she was there, curtains were closed shut, and a track of thick mud and leaves circled around the living room. Her eyes immediately widened in fear as she saw the man dead asleep. He was slumped on the dark brown couch that was pushed up against the white front door, one arm on his chest which slowly rose and fell. He had deep cuts covering his face, a bruise on his cheek and his left eye was swollen. Wheezes were the only sound coming from the unconscious man. He was as good as dead.

She quickly ran upstairs to the bathroom, pulled the small blue hand towel off the rack, and grabbed the plastic water bottle she found in what she presumed to be a teenage boys' room, she scrunched up her nose as she saw the dirt floating around in the water. She placed the towel in the sink and poured the water onto it. She folded it into a rectangle and gently placed it on the injured man's forehead. She headed towards the back door looking back over her shoulder and looking at the dark lounge room. The door creaked as she opened the back door slowly looking around for anyone or anything. Once it was all clear she sprinted across the street making sure of her surroundings.

She came across another white panel house, the grass spilling onto the footpath leading up to the front porch. The bay window was smashed open leaving shards of glass all over the wood floor. The glass crunched under her shoes as she popped her head inside looking into the lounge room. The blue couch was stripped with white and had been torn apart, its insides spilled out all over the floor.

She carefully hopped over the ledge of the window, looking back as she felt eyes on her, she gave it a second before retreating deeper into the house. Just like the house before it had been ransacked, photo frames were torn off the pale white walls leaving more smashed glass on the floors. She walked into the kitchen almost tripping over the divider between the carpet and the tiles. The kitchen had its drawers ripped out, all of them placed in the middle of the kitchen stacked in a pile.

She shoved her hands in her pockets kicking one of the draws causing the pile of them to fall over crashing onto the white tiles. She hissed as she looked around making sure nothing heard it. Backing away from the kitchen she walked passed the lounge room and she came to a halt, shivers creeping down the back of her spine.

The hallway had been blocked with the second matching couch, much smaller than the one she saw when she first entered but it was just big enough to block the dark hallway. She could hear something groaning and crashing into one of the doors further down the hallway, she gulped as she slowly stepped back. Her eyes never broke contact with the darkness of the hallway.

The banging got louder and louder, it knew she was there, it could smell her, a loud growl shook the house. Paralyzing the girl, goosebumps ran up her skin as she shivered in fear. She forced her feet to move back, just a step. Her muddy pink runners grazed against the cream carpet as her body started to turn on again. She hesitantly looked behind her at the closed door, the stained glass window cascading colourful lights onto the floor. She focused on how the red and blue mixed together. The banging got even louder, it echoed inside her head.

She looked at the open window, the transparent white curtains flowing in the wind. She just had to leave the house, it wasn't that hard. The banging stopped as a loud growl echoed through the Hallway, her eyes widened as the figure came into the light. It stared at her with its cloudy grey pupils, clumps of dried blood built up around eye bottom of the eyes.

Adrenaline spiked inside of her as she ran to the Kitchen almost slipping on the tiles, and bashing her hip into the corner counter. She looked at the walking corpse which was struggling to climb over the rotting couch, it was slow since its left leg had been reduced down just to its bone. She remembered what her Dad did in these situations but the thing was she didn't have a gun, she had nothing. Yet she still had the urge to live the fear of dying had always haunted her throughout the ten years of her life that she had lived.

She ran through the remains of the living room climbing out of the window, pain stung her through her right hand and up through her arm, causing her to lose her sense of motion sending her crashing onto the hard porch and landing on her bloody hand sending another shockwave of pain as she cried out. The dead flipped over the opened window smashing its head right next to her. Blood splattered on the right side of her face.

She slowly got up, tears rolling down her cheeks one after another. She looked down at her hand as blood was gushing out of the deep cut, she could see the glints of small shards of glass still in there as she made her way down the path, the wind harshly blowing against her.

"Hey!" She looked up and heard a small voice above her. Squinting her eyes and shielding them from the sun with her left hand. It was the same boy she saw roaming the house she was trapped in before. His oversized cowboy hat concealed his face in shadows. His feet swung over the gutter of the roof, he was missing a shoe on his left foot, his toe poking out of the hole of his black sock. On his other foot, he wore a worn-out boot, mud covering every inch of it.

"Holy shit! You're hand!" He placed the huge metal can next to him pointing down at her hand. She looked at her red hand and back up at him again as he was struggling to stand up, almost sliding down the roof. She observed as the boy smashed another window open next to the dead one trying to reach out at him. He disappeared inside the house. She looked around her as a bunch of crows pecking at a dead ginger Cat, laying on its own insides on the hot pavement, across the road from where she stood.

She turned around looking at the Boy who adjusted his hat and shrugged, "Oh gross poor Cat." She could see the features of his face more clearly. His greasy long hair stuck to his sweaty neck, blood slightly staining the blue sleeves on his long sleeve top which he had rolled up to his elbows. 

"Do you have a group of people or a camp nearby?" The boy adjusted his hat, lifting it slightly. She shook her head staring at her shoes, kicking a small rock off onto the grass, the boy sighed with annoyance.

"Uh, it's just me and my Dad." He points back towards the White House at the end of the street. She didn't what to say or do. So far he seemed nice enough but his Dad could be the complete opposite even in the state he was in. She tugged at the pockets of her jacket. "Look were aren't going to hurt you, I promise. My dad is in no condition to even stand at the moment." He scoffed looking down at the girl who was paying no attention towards him.

"Do you even speak-" He immediately wished he could've taken that back as the girl glared up at him, he was failing at making conversation with her. He didn't know what to do, his Dad, Michonne would definitely know what to do. He had lost them and this world had become overwhelming to him.

"Amelia," The boy's eyebrows furrowed and he squinted his eyes as the bright sun hit his face as he took his oversized hat off, "My name is Amelia, no - I don't have anyone. I don't know what to do." Tears stung once again at the back of her eyes, the hot sun burned against their faces as they both stood there. He nodded revealing his name, Carl Grimes.

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