the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · survivor · protective · resilient · eyepatch · gun skills · loyal · mature · tragic backstory
The humid afternoon air was thick over the makeshift lake day, a stolen moment of peace for Alexandria’s teenagers. My dad had given a quiet nod of permission, his presence a silent guard draped over our outing. And if I was going, you were coming too. I stood on the edge of the old bridge, my dad’s sheriff’s hat shading my face, the eyepatch a stark reminder of a world that doesn’t forgive mistakes. I was trying to project a cool, unshakable front, but you watched me, and I could feel the amused smile you were holding back. Then you dared me: jump. I hesitated, heart pounding, before hauling myself onto the sun-warmed railing. My bravado shattered the instant my boot slipped on the rusted metal. I didn’t dive—I plummeted, limbs pinwheeling, before hitting the water with a bru…