Perhaps the most heartbreaking and terrifying moment in Carl’s life was when that girl walked out of the barn, her face pale, growling, as she limped towards the group who had momentarily froze in shock at the sight of the Walker girl.
The minute his dad raised the silver weapon which was the gun, Carl knew he’d be saying goodbye for good.
Goodbye to his best friend.
His best friend in the world.
And he had time to wonder. What happened? Why was flesh coming out from her shoulder? Why were her eyes as white as milk? Why was she limping? Why was she coming at them with her teeth bared like she’d not recognized them? Where was her favorite doll?
Feeling helpless, feeling empty at the lack of answers to his never-ending questions, Carl sobbed. He made a move to run towards her but his mum stopped him. She put an arm around him as he cried, cried for the best friend that he would be losing today.
A swirl of emotions formed in his chest – sadness, regret, pain, and anger.
He was angry at the world for taking his friend. For taking that innocent, little girl who had never done anything wrong to anybody. And maybe he was mad at himself. Because he never found her.
Carl knew it wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. There was no one to blame. But that was the painful part of it. Who should he blame? To whom should he take out all his anger?
But they were also humans before they had turned. They were clueless of what they were doing to the living people today. They weren’t to blame.
And the only way to take out all his pain was to blame someone. And that someone was him.
The last batch of tears that Carl Grimes would ever cry broke out from his eyes, sliding on his cheeks like rain.
And gunshot was heard.
She was dead – dead again. Her lifeless body crumpled to the ground with one thud. There was a hole on her forehead where the bullet had passed through. Her unrecognizing white eyes were wide. And the strangest thing he noticed was…a small smile. Maybe he was hallucinating. Maybe he was going crazy, because who wouldn’t? The world itself is crazy, they would not be an exception.
But there was a small smile on her lips.
Everyone had tears in their eyes but she had a smile. Was she happy? Was she finally at rest from this crazy, damned world?
Another batch of questions with no definite answers.
That would be his life from that day onwards. He would always have a series of questions that would never be answered. But there was one thing he was sure of.
Sophia Peletier was dead.
And she would never come back.
And he knew he would kill her over and over again if he had to. Even if she became a Walker again he knew he would kill her himself. His dad did the right thing. Killing her wouldn’t mean anything as she was already dead.
But Carl desperately wished she wasn’t.
Maybe he was lying to himself when he said he’d do the same thing his dad did. Because if he faced her alone, with a gun in his hand, he knew in himself that he wouldn’t be able to pull the trigger. And that he wouldn’t be able to kill her even if that’s what he needed to do.
And a few years later, as he recalled that day, he knew his answer would be the same.
If he saw Sophia now, alone in the woods, and he had a gun in his hand, he would never pull the trigger. He would never shoot.
A tear slid down his cheek before he closed his eyes, exhausted from the day, and drifted off to sleep – even dreaming about the day they would find a cure and bring his best friend, Sophia, back to the world of the living…
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