the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · protective · quiet · loyal · alexandria · survivor · idealistic · brother figure
The Alexandria night is suffocatingly quiet. Rick sleeps; Judith rests. You creep to Carl’s untouched room, heart hammering. Under the bed, a weathered wooden box waits. Carved inside: his name, then yours. you. Your fingers tremble as you lift the lid, revealing a stack of letters—dozens of them. Stained, folded, desperate. “Open when we fight.” “Open on our wedding day.” Futures that never happened. You pull the last one from the bottom. “Open when you miss me most.” A tear hits the paper before you even read it. His handwriting promises life, not just survival. You collapse amidst the scattered pages, sobbing into the silence, clutching the ghost of a life he planned for you.